I have a lot of family, and I love them very much. Since my move to Atlanta, however, I find myself torn trying to keep in touch with my other family, the one I have made out of friends and neighbors, while struggling to create a new one here.

Let me go back a bit. When I was in college, I made a lot of friends, friends who are still an integral part of my life. After we graduated, most of them stayed in Houston, and so did I , cultivating and cementing the friendships we had begun in four years of living together, studying together, and playing together. The girls I spent my time with then became sisters to me, and, as I had no siblings, I welcomed their presence in my life. However, in 2013, they were scattered across the country, and I had a choice to make. I chose to leave Houston, but I also chose to do whatever was necessary to keep those friendships strong.

I made other friends through the life I had in Houston, and again during my brief stay at home, in Austin. But I moved again, and left those new friends behind. And now I am in Atlanta, meeting new people, and putting the same effort into caring for them that I exerted before.

I don’t love Atlanta. Some people do, but I am not one of them. And I know I will leave here at some point. I am struggling, at this point, to maintain all of the important bonds I have cultivated in other places. And I am still trying to expand my circle here, to make a family for myself so far from home. But, with each new person I meet, a problem lingers at the back of my mind: Will this person be someone I care for when I move on to a new place, start a new life? Will I have to bear the dreadful disquiet of missing this person when I am gone?

I know how some others approach such a problem. “Missing” is not an issue for them; whether by personality or lifestyle, they are unhindered by that burden. And some people naturally fall out of our lives. But I regret each wonderful, worthy person whom I have let go. And those bonds are not easily reforged. I miss the people I have loved, and terribly. Am I to go through life this way, feeling acutely the pain of distance or the heartbreak of regret? Will I leave behind a piece of my heart in every place I choose to call home?

I don’t have the answers to these questions–I don’t even have a way to start sorting the problem. But I thought that perhaps you, Reader, have felt this pain and could commiserate. Or maybe I just felt that I had something to say again, as this horrible year finally begins to fade.


One thought on “CROSSROADS

  1. Staying in touch is hard, but it’s OK to only reach out every 6 months or so. It’s understood that your life is where you are and the love is not diminished. As the Garbacz Commune develops, know that you have a place here, no matter the intervening years.

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