Delimmas of the BRAIN

I've been thinking. (And before you ask, yes, it hurt some but not as much as it could, and yes, you probably do smell smoke. And I know thinking is a dangerous past time, but I just can't seem to help myself. I tried shoving a crayon up my nose to make my brain calm down, but it didn't work. I CAN color anything chartreuse with my left nostril now, though.)

Anyway. Welcome to the evident journal of randomness. Back to those thoughts I was thinkin'... (what are you doing, Becky? Thinking my thoughts...)

I'm seriously considering moving back to South Carolina next year. The only thing keeping me here is my job, which is fabulous - amazing people, pay, position, benefits, etc - but still, it's just a job. My family is in SC. My friends (family of choice, really) are in SC. I don't have anyone here that understands me the way my friends back home do. I mean, I have people that I work with that I dearly love, and hang out with sometimes, but they just don't know me the way I need for friends to know me... and I don't know how to change that. I do NOT trust people easily and I don't know if I can be comfortable with my work friends to the same degree I am with my friends at home.

I would miss Indiana and the friends I've made, and I would seriously regret it if I had to give up my job (I could see if there was some way I could still work on a remote basis from South Carolina, but I seriously doubt that they'd OK that sort of thing). But I've been asking myself... what is really important? I've always said that friends, family and living your life to the fullest are more important than any job. And if it's only the job that's holding me here, why not go back to SC?

At the same time... the South is a very hard place to live for someone who's gay. One of the things I love about Indiana is that my girlfriend and I are just like any other couple to just about everyone. We can actually walk down the street holding hands without the fear of being looked at like we have three heads each, or being screamed at, or being told that we're going to hell when we die. When we decide to have a baby, the doctors here will be helpful and respectful of the fact that we're a lesbian couple. I work at a company that has domestic partner benefits, so she can get good medical care if needed.

But is all that worth being lonely all the time? Because we are. We long for the people we left behind. Not the place, the people. I miss the South - it's my home and I'll always be a Southerner - but mostly, I miss our friends and family. And isn't it mainly the people of a place that makes the place what it is?

I just don't know what to think. More later - I've got work to do. ;)

~Becky