Considering the mess I have made of my life, I have run away, briefly.
After spending a week crying on the phone to my mother she had had enough and told me to leave and seek some peace in Washington. I had been hesitant to make this voyage at the beginning of the summer for several reasons, the largest being that I knew my mom would want to keep me. I understand her motives and I understand her logic, but I cannot stay.
I have a life in Kansas City.
My baby has a father in Kansas City.
I have a good job that I love in Kansas City.
And I have a man that drives me absolutely insane but that I can’t help but love in Kansas City.
But I have no family in Kansas City. And that man I love may not always be around for me. I believe he will always be around for baby Lincoln, but maybe not for me.
So is home the life I have created somewhere in middle earth, or is home where your family is? The family that loves me unconditionally. Or does it really even matter?
Despite my mothers wishes, I have decided to stay in Kansas City, but I will be seeking some peace and perspective in Washington state for the next three weeks. Maybe I can figure out the mess I have created. Maybe I will grow closer to a God that I have left somewhere in what seems to be my distant past. And hopefully I will find myself again. The part of me that I have lost and the part of me that I am going to need to survive the future I have created.