Lost Soul

This morning I was feeling a little off. A little lost. A little all over the place. I suppose I feel this way all the time and then not this way all the time, rotating back and forth between belonging and longing in some weird dance, but I was feeling off nonetheless. I often say to Brian, "Why am I in a funk?" only to snap back into reality and the present moment and fully living as myself a few days or hours later. Such is the life of a girl with a racing mind.

Maybe it was my 5:15 alarm, an hour earlier than I'm used to. Or the two bowls, four forks, and one spoon that I have in my apartment. Or my clothes in suitcases and boxes and bags and on the floor. Or the stop-and-go game my foot was playing with the breaks, joining the slow, irregular heartbeat of humanity flowing toward the heart of the city. Or the sense of odd stillness when I paced up Francisco Avenue to the front door of my school. 

Whatever the reason, today I'm feeling a little off, a little displaced. 

A little uncentered, or whatever the word that I'm looking for but can't seem to find is. Some things are in sync, and others are just not, and I guess that's okay and I guess that's what happens in this adult-world-where-there-is-no-prescribed-next-steps. I left my little home of Pilsen last weekend and I think that's what started spinning me off my center. I've found my thoughts taking random highways left and right. Last year, upon moving to the city, I missed the suburbs of my college life. I wanted so badly for a safely lit walk into my apartment, for a mall within a few minutes' distance, and free parking everywhere I went. Last week, in the city, I missed the country. I would've given anything to spend four days exploring by the river, walking on the beach, sitting around a fire, and staring up at a sky of stars. This week, back in the suburbs for the first time in two years, I missed the city. I wanted so badly to run by the lake, view the skyline, sit at my bar, and eat tacos bought from a food truck. My soul is confused because it doesn't know what and where to miss, and why. 

It's all due to this growing-up-thing, that I'm not very sure ever ends, in the end. I am all of these things swirling in my head, and I belong in all of these places, yet I don't know where to find my footing. Some people have that perfectly right idea of the future in 20-20 vision. I, in my very nearsighted fashion, must clumsily squint into the future, only to see a blur of colors and angles, no big picture coming into sight. I don't have a sense of place, yet. Is that something that eventually comes? 

In these next 36 days before that wedding day happens, I'll sort of be in this swirling cyclone. When Brian moves in after our honeymoon, maybe I'll start to see where this thing is going and maybe that picture, or at least corners and pieces of it, might start to come into focus after a small while. 

And yet, and yet, and yet...there is a small feeling that I get addicted to in these moments. I want this feeling, I long for it. Is that weird? Maybe so. Maybe there is something exciting about feeling a little lost; perhaps the very act of shaking it all up puts a thrill in my heart, like starting something new always does. It's a vicious cycle, but I tend to go back to feeling lost and displaced and seasons of feeling "off" over and over and over because it makes me question, makes me think, and makes me do things like stare into that future and wonder about what's coming around the corner. The fact that the object of my vision is a little fuzzy brings this uneasiness, yes, but it brings an excitement and challenge and freshness that I can't seem to live without. 

So I'm feeling a little off; I'm feeling a little lost. I'm waiting to see what comes into focus around the bend.