So last night was my welcome back get together at the Mexican restaurant. Boy did I pig out! I think I was very close to committing the sin of gluttony. Today, for mothers day, my mom wants buffalo wings, so off to Chili's we go! I am actually looking forward to Tuesday's diet at this point.
But the real part that plagues me doesnt seem to have a timeline and I dont really have much control over it. Last night was the first time I had any non superficial discussions with anyone since I have been home. Partly because I didnt want to and partly because I didnt need to. I was listening to my friends talk about various things and the entire time my insides were screaming. I just dont quite feel like I belong and I can relate to these things anymore. It seemed at times like I had changed so much that we were strangers and yet, I remember not too long ago participating in those same conversations.
I tried my best to express myself but it was futile. I rambled and probably offended and, in the end, felt worse than if I had kept my mouth shut. Even now, I struggle for words to describe how I am feeling. I wrote in my book shortly after arriving in Venice that plane tickets dont alter your life--they just transport it somewhere else. I am not sure I believe that anymore. Or perhaps its true and the actual living in Venice is what changed me.
And what has changed? Alot and nothing. I have this tug of war inside when I think about doing something. Just this morning, I thought about how nice it would be to have the morning paper delivered again so I can read it at leisure. But then immediately, I thought that was the old habit I had (and all I ever read were the sales ads anyways) and how much I wished I could walk around Venice instead and view the sights. Its a small thing, I know, but it only escalates from there when I think about my relationships and my future. Its rather maddening.
Perhaps I didnt really know myself before I left and have a better impression now that I am back. Regardless, I am different. I long for the feeling of comfort I had once here and yet I find it strangely repulsive. I dont want to fall into old habits and traits but I desire some consistency. I say to myself that once I have a job, this will all be better and at the same time I think that the job will take me back to that other life where I was someone else and I am not sure I want to be that person again.
This is all too deep and horrific for a Sunday morning and something I have no answers for, so it probably best I stop waxing poetic and move on to something else......like those boneless buffalo wings I am about to eat!