Okay, at first I wanted to say “dying” but then I figured that some people might get offended and be all “you don’t even know what dying is like…how can you say that.” So I decided against it.
But let me explain myself.
I feel like when I left Tennessee, I was saying goodbye to all my friends for the last time. I feel like when people say “I’ll visit you!!” That they’re just saying that to make themselves (and me) feel better for knowing that they’ll never really come visit. I feel like when I left Tennessee, everyone in Tennessee lives on without me and that the longer I’m gone, the more people will forget I existed. And the longer I’m gone, the more people I will be replaced with.
Is that dramatic? I don’t know if I mean to be dramatic or not. That’s really how I feel emotionally. And I know that I will probably “move on” as well. Make new friends, experience new places, do fun new things. Maybe? Right?
I think I miss home. And my family. And my friends. And I know that I have a new home now and I love it! It’s beautiful. But what about reVOLution? And what about Church Street United Methodist? What about David and Meagan and Tori? What about Dr Swann and Dr Peterson and Dr Batey? I know that they’ll never really forget me because they can’t. Because I text them at least once a week to say “hey, I’m still around, remember that I liked being in Tennessee and that I liked you.”* And what about my little nephew, Baylor, who was on the verge of walking the last time I saw him? And what about my brother who turns 18 next week? And what about my brother and sister-in-law who feel like real family and I sometimes forget to say “in-law” when talking about them because that’s how good the relationship with them feels. And what about my new parents who took us to the beach for one last she-bang? And what about my dear friend Amy and her husband Evan who are getting ready to have a little baby boy? And what about Kelsey who always makes the world a little more colorful? And what about Alex, and Eric, and Jenna who made singing at Church an amazing musical, and spiritual, experience? And what about everyone else who I’m missing right now but don’t have the energy to write about because I’m slightly on the verge of tears.
Will they all forget me?
Maybe I’m throwing a pity party for myself because I miss everyone and for the first time, I feel like I’m 13 hours away from everything I know. It’s only been a week. And I have a lot to be thankful for. More than I could ever imagine. I have a beautiful home. A wonderful husband. A hilarious cat. Family who loves me. Food on my table. Clean water to drink. Shoes on my feet. And clothes on my back. Plus, the list goes on and on…but we would be here forever if I kept listing all I have to be thankful for.
But moving feels like a huge separation has occurred. I can’t imagine what it must have been like when there weren’t such things as the Internet, cell phones, Instagram, Facebook, etc. I commend those who stayed in touch back when life was so hard.
Some of who are probably reading this thinking “Oh boo-hoo. You moved to a new state. I’ve moved to a new country and NOBODY comes to visit me.” Well I’m sure you went through a stage where you felt like I do now. I just decided to blog about it and you didn’t. So there. *sticks tongue out*
So maybe moving isn’t as bad as dying is. Obviously it’s not. I’m still alive. I just don’t want to be forgotten.
Next time will be a happy post. I will post pictures of the new house!
Until then, fellow BFs.
*those may or may not be the exact wordings of the texts…