It's been a long slow road I've traveled lately. Full of hair-pin turns and unlined roads and occasionally unpaved ones.
California is beautiful. It's arid, it's sunny, it's full of a culture that is not "southern". So how did I get here?
Well, my dad. With his passing came the freedom for me to spread my own wings and chase the life I always wanted for myself.
That wing-spreading caused some spider webs to shake off, and the dust stirred up. When it all settled, my marriage was over. After much discussion and introspection, my marriage is perhaps what it always was... a great friendship. But the love that we shared was one of respect, friendship, loyalty, but not one of great passion. Perhaps one of great compromise. Turns out we were compromising on the wrong things, and not at all on the right ones.
So he helped me pack and hugged me goodbye, and here I am, not entirely sure how I got here. I think I got here by following my own heartbeat, softly but solidly drumming in my ears. Perhaps I got here by faith, maybe by stubbornness, by chance even by selfishness.
I'm sure for every ear that heard the whole story, there would be a different opinion. Speculation is the stuff of gold-diggers, real estate investors, and risk-takers. This is not about fueling the fires of speculation. Fiction is for that. Maybe I'll write a great novel out of my experiences.