aulde ang syne....

It seems as though a huge wave has approached with all the fear, insanity and draw of a typical natural disaster and crashed, leaving behind only a singularly anticlimactic emotional cavern. Christmas has always been my favorite time of year - possibly because I'm surrounded by family, possibly because my birthday is in there and adds to the numbers of gifts to unwrap, possibly because I enjoy good food and pretty lights and cheery music and all the other details that contribute to make the Christmas holiday season festive. This year, there was just this void, this asylum of emptiness.

I've found myself having an extremely hard time with the transition. The uprooting from my established home and comfort in South Carolina to the abrupt transplantation back here in Massachusetts. My fingers and toes are freezing in the near-Arctic climate composed of inches upon inches of snow, temperatures dropping well below cold, and the days quickly coming to a curt ending as the sun sets in the late afternoon instead of evening like everywhere else. I try to remain positive - try to keep clicking my red-donned shoes together and thinking there's no place like home. All those months when I was curled up in bed and crying because I was homesick are coming back to me now, except now I'm sick for the reverse. I miss the friends that had become my family. I miss the style that had become my life. I miss going out and gettting into trouble and staying out until well past 2 a.m. I miss feeling like I belonged somewhere. I miss having a niche.

But as I list all these things I miss, I chide myself for not being satisfied, content, grateful for all the things I do have. It's not that I'm not.... I just don't acclimate to change very well.... That cliche "you don't know what you had til it's gone", although overused to the point of being wrinkled and dingy and dilapidated, still rings entirely all too true.