When I first got back from California, I missed it with such intensity I couldn’t listen to songs or watch things where places I knew were featured. I’ve slowly got to grips with my intense emotions but this week I got hit by a wave of missing California like I have not had in years.
It’s been ten years since I flew out to Fresno and started the best year of my life. I found friends who loved me, wanted to hang out with me and I never felt like a burden to them. My roommate’s family adopted me into their fold and I’ve been there ever since.
If I’d had an average year, without such happy memories, then maybe I wouldn’t miss it like I do now.
I know what I miss is something I can never have again. My friends are scattered all over the world now and lifestyles have changed due to location, work and family but the nostalgic part of my heart cannot let go of those happy times where I belonged and felt whole.
Not once, when I lived there, did I want to come back to the UK. Even when things got bad, as nothing is ever perfect, I never longed to be back home.
I guess most of my problem is that I don’t yet have a life I feel purely content with. I’m constantly fighting to move on, to move forward and to create a life I want to live.
Would this be a mere distraction? I no longer believe so. As much as I loved California, I can’t see myself living there again permanently. But the happier memories of that time eat away at me when I look at the life I have.
Sure, I have a friend here. She’s great and I love her to pieces but she has her own thing to do and her own life to lead. When we hang out, it’s fun and I’m glad I have her in my life. However, without working, without filling my day with productivity and earning money to live in my own place, get the horses I dream of having, I’m seemingly going to be haunted by the happier memories of California for the foreseeable future.