Learning to Live

Nothing lasts forever, you know. Not sadness. Not homesickness. Not even grief. And if anyone tells you that you cannot grieve the loss of a city of residence, you spit in their eye, because they are wrong. Ask any Armed Forces family, forced to hoist sails by orders from above every four, eight or twelve years. You can lose a city, even if you never owned a house there; it can still be your home, and it can still rip out your heart when you have to leave.
It was the right choice to make. I get to spend more time with my husband, enough to realize that I do, in fact, still love him. I have a temp job right now, that I like quite a bit. I'm considering enrollment in the local community college, to take a few courses in accounting (i know, right?). I'm starting to speak to people on a regular basis. I even attended a Knit Night gathering at a local yarn shop. It's a great shop and I met some very charming ladies who were very kind to me. The key is to find your places, find your people.
All the same, I still have moments. I went to a local coffeehouse/bar called The Phoenix, which is located in the Arts district, and it is in a neighborhood that was so much like Dilworth that I was immediately dropped into a vat of viscous homesickness.
So I am finding my way here in Tulsa. As much as I complain about their driving ability and the road conditions, almost everyone has been very nice. And there is something to be said for that. Nothing lasts forever, and this is where I live right now. Sooner or later, I suppose this will be home.

"Home will be where the heart is, never were words so true,
 My heart's far, far away; home is too."  ---"Home" Beauty & the Beast