Homeless. Rootless. Shifty.

SO many changes in such a short period of time. My body and mind are more than a little overwhelmed. I'm grieving and celebrating and trying to be practical and in the moment, all at the same time. I'm not good at ANY of those things, never mind all of them together.

I'm glad I got to grieve. I'm glad I made myself say goodbye, instead of just walking away. I'm glad I lay in bed and cried in front of another human being, naked in more ways than one. I hated it, hated the loss of control. But I'm glad I did it. I think I broke the cycle of leaving being too hard, of loss and grief being unacceptable. At least for now.

So, I am homeless, almost. I am staying with my brother and soon to be sister in law for now, till May. Then Arizona again. Then who knows. Not me. And that contributes to the celebration.

Driving out of Portland yesterday, through the Gorge and into the hills of Eastern Oregon, felt AMAZING. Warm and right and good. Sitting here now, in a strangers house, with my mother and father and family all around, feels... not so great. They are complicated, and I am not. They are dark, and quagmired, and stuck in a past I'm slowly dragging myself out of. How do you keep yourself from completely cutting ties to everyone who is still wallowing in something you desperately don't want to wallow in? I don't know...

Speaking of being naked... I was thinking about the different facets of my grief while driving. I have told myself it's ok, that I'm going to miss many things about Trevor. I don't have to feel weak, or self consciously hypocritical, for missing a complicated relationship.
And something I will miss, something I will grieve the loss of, is skin privileges. I don't give those out easily. For all the people I've slept with, all the bodies I've seen naked and who've seen me naked? I still don't give skin privileges easily. I don't cuddle with strangers, even if I sleep with them. I don't revel in nothing more than the soft, full contact of skin against skin, sharing space willingly and easily. Not with most anyone. But I did with Trevor. Regardless of anything else we had going on, I always felt safe cuddled up against his body, skin to skin. I want more of that, more ease with it. And I will miss it till I have it again.

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