"There's so much more strength under all these layers..."

Here I am. Home. It's been months since I've really posted anything...although there wasn't that much of a pause on the writing end. Rather than letting my fingers dance along my keypad, I've clung tightly to paper, or anything remotely close.

It's been six months since my feet sluggishly stumbled onto the ground of Logan International Airport here in Boston. I wish I could sum up the journey and lessons that I've had thus far, however I don't believe it's really possible. Although, for my eyes, and my hands to grasp onto I still have all those papers that stayed in a pocket with a leaky pen, or a journal that was my date on the T to a coffee shop for the day. Allow me to say this; Without a doubt my path was unknowingly leading me back to the East Coast once again. I don't believe I would have been able to see that through a dark haze filled with drinks from here to eternity, mornings spent trying to quiet that blasting sound in my head, and most importantly trying to not focus on the fool I most likely acted like the night before.

"stripped."
©brokenimagery

Four years I called Portland, Oregon home. And in the Six Months that I've been here I have heard from four people. Rumors spread fast, even from Portland- they made sure the words that were spoken of me from a former home dweller would eventually land its ugly lies and deceit into my ears. Did it suck knowing that someone whom you helped out, and genuinely cared for as a good friend would make it their mission for anyone that new me in Portland to know that I was "Crazy" or, "Stay away from her.." The first time I was informed about this I was livid...vexed to no belief. However, as the days began to pass, and the time the sun spent out was starting to fade more and more, so did my caring about what someone else had to say about me. Do I fly back to Portland and scramble to make sure that my side is spoken of? No...I rest with my character and the Woman I am. I'm satisfied to occasionally hear from that little handful of folks...like today, discussing art and the beauty and knowledge that's with in it with someone who I care to hear from, and an individual I don't fill like I have to prove anything to. The friends, the ones that stick around, through the good times, the occasional break, and somehow surviving this thing we all differently live; life.

In three days I will go back to Logan International Airport, and this time I have a round trip ticket. So without a doubt, after my travels to the NW, and ATL, I will return to a winter wonderland here in Boston...home. Then soon after I will begin school, diving into the world of Liberal Arts with a focus on English.

I return to what some may call "Unfinished" business...gladly I do not see it that way. I look forward to those that I've know 10, 15 years, hell my whole life. And I go stripped away of everything that covers me...everything that tries to put this "I'm tough" front on...for I embrace and expect one of my sisters to withdrawal from any family event because I will be there. However, I have me, my other family members, and those people that have always had my back.

There's so much more strength under all these layers...and I'm glad I'm finally free of them (well quite a bit of them), for I can breathe for the first time in my life.