This conversation got me thinking. Where do I belong? I had thought it was definitely not in the U.S. because I run away from there as often as I can, but then I always have to return. If it is in the U.S., then where exactly? I cannot figure that out. When I was in London last year I was reflecting on the same thing. My brothers seem to have all found a place where they thrive. One has found a beautiful life here in Denmark, one absolutely loves the West Coast and is happily situated in Seattle, Washington, one will never leave Boston, and another is quite comfortable is Wisconsin. But me, I can't seem to settle in one place for longer than six months. Vermont is too small and empty, Rhode Island just rubbed me the wrong way, and Denmark and I, we just clash, I can't seem to find my footing here.
I sometimes think if I could return to London it would be the place for me, but the people who aided in my infatuation with that city are long gone, would the effects be the same?
My indecision is sending me back to the comfort zone of Vermont. I am tucking myself back between the mountains in which I share a long lasting love-hate relationship. I run back to this little town over and over again but cannot wait to leave once I am there. I love the familiarity but feel suffocated by the overwhelming emptiness and the feeling that there is no where to go from there. There is no room for improvement, no way to get better. Returning to Vermont is a momentary pause in time. It is where I recharge my leaking battery, where I heal my wounds of the road, where I return to zero. But in order to get past zero I have to leave again.
Where to this time?