chercher

She fell to the floor. Every ounce of strength suddenly drained out of her, and the floor was the only thing holding her up - the floor and the counter top behind her. All she could hear was the constant humming of the machines in the room, the beeping, the occasional scratching of pens. She couldn't muster up the strength to get up and turn around by herself. The only thing that made her stand up and face reality, was the thought that she was still breathing.

All she could respond with was no. No, no, this is dumb, it doesn't make sense, NO. Even though it made perfect sense. Even though she should have done it before. She was afraid of being alone, and it was unfair to you. She wanted you to hold her together, find her independence. And she sunk to the floor again, lay on it staring up at the ceiling, like she used to do as a child. She used to lay on the floor and stare, imagining shooting stars and spaceships in a made-up night sky. She lay on the floor, absorbing this rejection.

It was an instant flood of tears, when she found out. She leaned against the beer-soaked counter top. She couldn't say congratulations, she couldn't feign happiness, she just stood there and cried, realizing that her strongest tree was moving across the country in just a month's time.

She dropped to the floor when she stepped into the only room she had ever known. She dropped to the floor, and began hysterically crying. She was alone, with only the comfort of her dog. She was alone, in a room that she couldn't recognize anymore. She screamed, WHY. Shouting at God, shouting, hoping that He'd answer and tell her that there's a reason for all of this loss. A reason for this weakness and crying.

She sat in her room every night. She snuggled down in her blankets, fighting out the cold and reading about other people's lives late into the night. This was the only thing that got her through her own - throwing herself into the lives of others.

She wrote. She wrote something everyday, her mind never failing her. She wrote about the pain of being alone, of being surrounded by people and not feeling the warmth of those people's hearts. She wrote.

She sunk down into the chairs of busy coffee shops, finding solace in the bustling around her, in the laughter of others and the warmth of the cup wrapped underneath her fingers. She hid in the libraries, calming herself with the purposeful duties of school. Wandering around the stacks of books, and hiding in the corner, reading the book she pulled out of the J's.

Slowly she found love again. She didn't want to surrender herself to it. She didn't think she could, but life had different plans for her. She surrendered to the picking hands of love.

She lost herself in it, she let go of her apprehensions, thinking that maybe it would be right this time.

She would later find out that it wasn't.

She sunk into the seat of the plane, embarking on her four month long journey with a heavy heart, torn between knowing that she needed to leave in order to find herself again, and between wanting to be surrounded by that love that had recently found her. She sunk into her chair and slept for 3 days.

She slept for 2 months.

She woke up after the reaching arms of betrayal plucked her from her slumber. She woke up a cynic, but she did wake up.

She stood up and began the adventure that should have begun two months prior.

She sat on train after train, lost herself in the fields passing her, experienced the streets of new places.
She spun around in fields.
She lay down in the grass and stared up at a sky too blue to be real.

She found her independence on the streets of Krakow.
She danced on the streets of Vienna.
She sunk to the ground in Auschwitz.
She sunk to the ground next to the Berlin Wall.
She sunk to the ground in the Jewish Ghetto.
She sat on a bench outside of Hungary's Parliament.
She leaned back on the warmed walls of the Salzburg Fortress.
She found herself in the streets of Krakow.

Her steps back onto the plane were stronger, but unsure.
She fell into the arms of familiar faces. She returned unsure, but confident.

Now she's sitting on the floor of her kitchen.
She had sunk to the floor of her kitchen, not in despair, but in complete contentment. In complete relief of finding herself again. She's sitting on the floor, waiting for the dough to rise. She's sitting on the floor surrounded by her family.

A patched up heart and one year later.

I'm home.

It's weird and though I really want to hop on the next available plane back to anywhere in Europe, I am looking forward to some things here. Being across the Atlantic Ocean did it's job. I am nervous that there will be some reverse progress, but I guess I'll deal with that when the time comes. Right now I'm fighting jet lag and waiting patiently until my Aunt Didi gets here tonight.

I think now, more than ever, I recognize the things that need changing here.
It will be good.

I hope.
I ran away from a lot, and I knew that I was going to have to deal with it when I got back over here. Man, that first day was weird, for so many reasons. I guess I'll get into that later. I have a doctor appointment.

mountaingirl

finding solace in small town austria

homeless

settling into a long strain of finding homes and searching for homes

stressfulhome.homeless.juneauhome.homeless.viennahome.homeless.
.awkwardhome.homeless.illegalhome.homeless.temporaryhome.

this is the last 7 months.
I think I might actually be looking forward to the day where I buy myself a home and live in it for more than 9 months at a time. The endless scrounging for a decent place to live is exhausting.

Manifestations

of a childhood dream



in the largest leaf pile



known to man.



Stadtpark
Wien, Osterreich
29.Oktober.2008