love always, kristin

I spoke to my dad on the phone today:

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

I didn’t respond.

“You’re so positive all the time, I’m sorry you’re having a bad day.”

But it wasn’t a bad day, Dad. The day itself was perfectly fine. I couldn’t explain why I was feeling the way that I was. 

Now I can. 

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I left my room twenty minutes ago, keys in hand, with the intention of going to the bar. My favorite place in town hosts trivia on Thursdays. I turned down the correct street but as tears filled my eyes, I decided to keep driving – driving with nowhere in mind and no urge to stop.

So I drove toward the lake. If it made any sense to, I’d have driven all the way to New Mexico. I kept driving as tears continued to stream down my face – past the lake, past the golf course, down a road I’ve never heard of until it didn’t feel familiar. 

That’s where I am now.

In the driver’s seat that has consoled me more times than any human could. 

For so long, all I’ve wanted was for some place to feel like home. Now that one does, it’s filled with none of the people that feel like home. 

I realized today that I don’t have any friends here. 

That sounds harsh.

I have acquaintances. I have a group of people I regularly sit with at dinner. But today I pieced together that they are not my friends.

Most of my friends live hundreds (some thousands) of miles away, and almost all of them live in other states. And I miss them. 

I miss being around the kind of people who offer to spend time with me out of more than obligation, or convenience. I miss feeling like I’m not trying twice as hard as the other person to keep in touch. 

I love Colorado, I really do. I don’t regret the choice that I made to move here. I really feel like it was the best thing I could have done for myself at the time. 

But God, does it get lonely.

Loneliness sucks enough on its own. 

It’s nothing compared to being lonely while you’re surrounded by people. 

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I left my room to go to the bar – not to drink, but to be with people. I thought it would make me feel better.

As it turns out, my effort to prove to myself that I didn’t need anyone only proved to me how lonely you have to be to go to a bar by yourself.

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My dad has always told me that “in order to have a friend, you have to be a friend.”

I feel like the people I’ve been spending time with recently want me to be a friend to them, but not so much the other way around. 

So when my dad asked me today,

“Do you miss home?”

I answered, “Yes and no.”

As in:

No, I don’t want to live there anymore. I like where I live. I’ve outgrown my hometown, and the reason I left Tahoe was to start growing up.

But yes,

I miss not feeling like the only person in a crowded room.

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With love,

Kristin