Around Thanksgiving was the last time I sat down and gathered my thoughts for writing a post. I’ve found, since coming to Hawaii, that very fundamental things can change over a few weeks time. K and I have grown accustomed to packing up and leaving places we love only to return three months later.
This past season has been the best for me here in Hawaii. Sometimes it hovers around one of the best times of my life in general. I think there will always be parts of NY that I can’t negotiate leaving behind. No matter how ideal the circumstances, I long for how I feel when I’m with friends eating Korean fried chicken in dark places, downing bottles of soju, and arguing about politics or tv shows. Or walking miles around the city with Kat or Eleanor for hours and hours on a weekday afternoon, coming up with unnecessary errands just for an excuse to walk and talk a little longer. I accept that I don’t have that here–and it’s totally ok because I don’t believe that I exist in both places anymore. Hawaii has won me over for the meantime. I love it here. I love being here with K.
I love K.
This year is almost a completely different Hawaii from last year. Due in large part to finding this house. Sometimes I walk up to the front door and I already anticipate missing it someday. Every time we come home my heart surges a little bit and I say to myself I love this place. Corny!
I also never anticipated how much a car would change every aspect of my life. The first day that I had it (and K was working), I was so confused. Even though I had nowhere to go, I kept thinking I had to DRIVE somewhere. I made a special trip to get gas even though I had almost a full tank. Kat explained to me that that wasn’t how it worked. That you buy gas when you’re already out doing things so as not to WASTE gas GETTING gas. These are the sorts of things I didn’t know. I wondered if it was foolish to have a whole separate car for me at all. That feeling dissipated very quickly.
And with that went the era of blogging about frogs at the front door, or giant spiders, or pictures of empty jello cups. I no longer do yoga everyday (or hula) and I haven’t written a poem since the summertime.
Which is all ok. In fact its better.
If I can find a new way to write about all of it maybe I’ll be able to explain why.
Over and out!