Living in North Carolina is a lot like being in a twelve step program. I know I need to be here. I know that the rewards will be sweet if I can make it through to the end of the program. But damn, sometimes I just need a PNW kick. Anything, anything, please! Send me the rain, an earthquake, an Evergreener- ANYTHING! Anything but Pearl Jam, that is. Most of the time I can work through these "withdrawal symptoms." Or maybe I'll find something to ease me over. I'll cheat a little and buy a free trade organic bar of chocolate or coffee. It's my methadone. This past week, I crashed. I crashed good and hard. North Carolina is not home- not in the least- and I knew it with every fiber of my being and I wasn't sure if I could hold out to the end. So, I sent out the call and my friends, because they are awesome and resourceful and caring, responded in kind. I was tempted with a good home for E and me, my job back, a lead on possibly day care and a car. I had the money and means, I knew the way.....
And then I made that phone call that had to be made. It was like an acid flashback in it's vividness that recalled the worst of everything- without a single sharp word spoken. I hung up the phone knowing full well why we had moved away in the first place. I hugged my baby boy and promised to do what was right regardless of how hard it would be and I loved him even more in that instance.
North Carolina is not permanent any more than it is home. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I'll put the last box in my car, take a long look at the house, and move on. I have my college courses picked out. I have leads on a transferable job. I have a support group of family that I can't wait to see. There are just a few more steps to get through before we get there.
Will I ever return to Washington? Maybe. Definitely to visit and maybe to live but a lot needs to change first. I don't think I'll ever live in Olympia again but I'm certainly not opposed to Seattle or Port Angeles.