A dear friend of mine runs a posh hotel in West Hollywood. He offered me a suite for three nights. I stayed there one night and came “home” at 7 o’clock in the morning. The fact that I did that alarms me. The hotel was just wonderful, and the staff was just beginning to reaIize I was a friend of the “boss.” But, I just walked away; I just wanted to be “here” no matter what “here” was like. It was like I had no control over it.
There is nothing in this house anymore, the refrigerator door stands open but yet I feel like it’s where I belong. I know that I’m retreating back to what is comfortable and that the older we get the harder it is to not succumb to such feelings. But, I don’t want to be that old. I don’t want to be that “stuck in my ways.”
But I suppose I am.
Tomorrow I leave on an adventure that in most people’s minds would be epic. I have first class transportation to a comfortable apartment in one of the most fascinating cities in the world. Yet I’m apprehensive. Have I given up to much for this adventure? The way I look at it I’ve lost a lot. I lost Ray, then my job, our house, our belongings, and our way of life. On top of it all, I’m going to be away from family and friends. All this sacrifice for…….what?
Of that I’m not really certain. But here I come, all 52 years of me and all the crap that entails.