A Belonging I Can't Place

I drove to Gig Harbor yesterday and I can't decide whether it was a good or bad idea.  While it was wonderful to revisit our former little town, it also left me with a sense of longing that I wasn't expecting.  I drove around the familiar streets, took in the familiar sights, and talked to some of our friends/neighbors, and couldn't help feeling like maybe I belonged in this sleepy little town full of boats, trees, retirees, crazy squirrels, and laid-back deer.  And that's just not something I was prepared for.

This might be a first.  I've never been attached to a particular house, town, or location of any kind.  Sure, there have been a few in the past that I really liked - but none have made my heart swell and my bones ache at the same time.  But I should point out - I don't feel like I don't belong in other places. It's more that I don't think/feel/consider "belonging" as a physical concept.  That is, until quite suddenly yesterday...I felt it.  

What. Is. Happening.

And now a day later, the more I think about it the bluer I become.  People have always been my only anchors, not places.  And as I try to explore my surprising emotions, I know that so much of it is inextricably tied to how much I miss Steven.  I think Gig Harbor was the first place where we've both been really happy (as opposed to him hating LA, me hating Vegas, and both of us being ambivalent to Belltown), and that satisfaction with our surroundings made everything a little sparklier (is that a word?)  What I can't separate right now is whether I feel this way because I miss our quaint little town, the happy little life we built there, or just simply Steven.  I have a feeling it's all three rolled into a giant, heart-stopping, triple-whammy.  And either way, it hit me like a ton of bricks and I've spent my day trying to avoid the creeping sadness.

Note to self: it's not that helpful to look at photos of your missing loves when trying to "keep it together"

But distraction is the key to compartmentalization, or at least it is for me. So first I tried hunting for some new neighborhoods that are gaining popularity and a lot closer to work.  Long story short - I hated all 3 of them.  Strike one.

Second, I went to an RV dealership to look at travel trailers because I don't know.  Strike two.  

And then finally, I fell back on my tried-and-true reliance on culinary therapy.  One grocery trip and 6 hours later, I have a pot of homemade Korean oxtail soup.  Of course, now it's after midnight and I'm just going to bed without eating any.  But that's okay, mission more or less accomplished.  The effort was distraction enough to keep me from going off the deep end.  And perhaps coming home to something yummy tomorrow will make my day a little brighter.  It's the little things, right?

Image and recipe: HipFoodieMom

Before I crawl into bed, here's a little cuteness from a couple years ago in Gig Harbor.

I'm disregarding what I said earlier about not looking at things I miss.  Oh, and there was probably a squirrel behind me.

Goodnight.