(290//365) As we were driving through the city a few nights ago I said "I feel lonely in this city. It's cold and unwelcoming and I don't have any ties or connections here." And it's true, I feel displaced in Denver, a fact I keep hoping will change in time. It doesn't. It's not a warm and feels-like-home kinda place for me and it never will be. Mike asked me where I consider home to be and I really didn't know how exactly to respond. Las Cruces will always be my hometown but for me, it feels much like a ghost town anymore. Many of the people I care about have left or died and there are memories and a vivid past around every corner that only seem to bring a nostalgic sadness. Colorado Springs feels like home and I miss that place desperately but I also feel like going back would be going backwards and I'm trying to keep my eyes facing forward these days. It's hard. The longing to return to a comfortable familiarity rarely wanes.
The mountains are calling me. The trees and the solitude and a rural peacefulness I'm feeling more drawn to by the day. I'm still in search of home and I won't live forever. I'm trying not to be impatient but I need to do what I gotta do in Denver, make my peace with the city and get out.