It's official; I have left the life that I have been establishing over the past four years of my life. I never thought it would be this challenging and I certainly never thought it would be so emotionally taxing. When I returned from burning man I had to face the facts: I do not live in Santa Cruz anymore. I knew it before I left but I didn't understand it until a few key moments. First off was the fact that most of my closest friends were all leaving the day after our return from a marvelous adventure in the desert. Second, I caught mono.. Instead of hanging out with my boyfriend before we no longer lived near each other, I slept for hours upon hours and now we don't know when our paths will cross again. Thirdly, I went through my old house where it is now being taken care of by a new set of artistic women. It felt strange to creep up my old stairs and peak into my old room. It was not my house anymore and I felt like a stranger. It became apparent to me at that moment that our place of gathering had been passed on, ready for new life.
This past week made me realize that I had exhausted Santa Cruz's potential for me to its max. With no friends, job, or home to live in.. I was ready. Although its ending was not how I expected, I suppose it made things much less dramatic. I was able to leave it thinking about my health, my future road trip, and my future in general instead.
Nonetheless, I don't think I can express enough what my time there means to me. I reflect upon it so fondly. It has hosted the absolute best times of my life and helped to create a better me. It has produced life long friends and forever memories. For now I only have my memories and my photographs. Missing you magical Chestnut house and all the people you gathered.
And most of all, missing my room.
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