The Meaning of Home

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Today I received a text stating simply "come home." It made my heart ache. It was sent by a very close friend of mine still residing in Portland. I miss her so. And there are many times where I miss Portland so and I wonder if my choices were correct.
Then I remind myself that it isn't about right or wrong, it's about taking it for what it is (done) and making the best life I can out of each day. Most days that settles me. Today it even settles me. But I still miss her.

Her and three other ladies were my lovely sanctuary in Portland. None of them were close to the other, they all had their own things going on, and I knew each of them from different places, but those four were unbeatable adventures and friendship in the ever maddening but beautiful Portland.

Don't get me wrong, I have close (best) friends here too, and my closest friends (time known etc) reside in San Francisco. But Portland's relatively small city limits made it easier to see any one of the four ladies within 20 minutes. I don't have that same ability here. Some friends are closer, some are... well, hundreds of miles away.

The text just made me miss the proximity. Here in the burbs life is not so bad, I mean, Target and Starbucks around every corner ;), gas stations that stay open late, grocery stores that serve hard alcohol, less crime (? is that true, I don't know) etc. But there's something about the city, even the Portland kind of city (a big town posing as a city most days) that calls to me. The ease of getting to friends and being able to enjoy a cup of coffee or sit in each other's living room and just chat the days away, or even nap them away if it's me and M...
The range of foods and shops and types of people milling around, the ability to go to the bins and dig around and buy things for SUPER CHEAP... the art, the bookstores... oh the bookstores.

There are many good things that have come from me moving back home to San Diego. I do enjoy it here and this part of California will always, always have a place in my heart. Always. I don't hate it like I use to but I do understand the frustrations I would have with this city every time I have come back.

I'm torn.

I'm torn on where home is going to be in the future and where I want to be now. I'm torn about leaving friends and such but that will always happen with a person like me that likes (has) to try new places. I feel the most "at home" with a certain few people. Some of them I've known way longer than others, but their friendships all give me that sense of security and belonging.

Since I've been back I've spent a lot of time at home, most of which was self imposed. I get into projects or start reading blogs, or find a cleaning project and then I can't be bothered to get out of the house after 8pm, even on weekends. Totally self induced seclusion. Worst part, I'm not even in hermit mode, I'm just not into bars or shopping mode either. I have yet to find things to do not involving either. And we're all busy. Yes we were all busy in Portland too, but being closer together meant small amounts of time were actually available to hang out, catch up, walk down 23rd or Hawthorne or Belmont and just enjoy life.

Technically I'm home but I don't feel like I belong here. I know why I came back and I'm sticking to those goals but this isn't forever, just like Portland wasn't. The good thing about having friends all over is that you get to visit them and the cities you love whenever you want (read: and you have enough money in the bank.)

I should consider myself lucky (and most times I do) that home to me is being with certain friends (and family) and not a place. I figure that means I could be just about anywhere and feel at home as long as I had a best friend beside me. What I wish right now, during this stage of semi isolation from best friends, is that I could have them near. A solid dose of home.

xoxo