I've been living out of a suitcase since June 9th. And pretty much will be until the end of October. Which pretty much sums up life right about now. Technically, since I'm staying with a friend right now and will probably be for about three weeks altogether, and since I've taken my clothes out of the hiking backpack and put them in a little plastic tub with a lid, I am unpacked. Funny what stability looks like right now.
It's a weird place to be in. It's not just that I'm couch-hopping, and three weeks is the longest I'll be anywhere consecutively in these four months. It's being back in a country that slips back on easily enough, but not quite being anywhere in it, being in a sense I can't put my finger on just yet.
I'm here in Wilmington, but I'm leaving. I'll be visiting Los Angeles, will be meeting to-be family in the Bay Area, but I haven't moved there yet. I'm not really single anymore, but I'm not married. Have left Romania but will be going back to Turkey. I'm as in between as it gets right about now, just sort of floating without much of an end in sight. We'll get married, but even then we'll stay somewhere temporarily till we can get on our feet.
Anyway, not saying any of this to complain. Just that life is very different now than I think it will be again any time soon. And it's a reminder that the rootlessness I'd romanticized for so long wears after a while in real life. And unpacking, even if it's just in a little plastic bin, feels like luxury. Maybe I'm just old.
In the meantime I've successfully survived extrovert-mode for nearly a month in Turkey, made it back to the States, watched my best friend get married, missed the bouquet with my hands but caught it with my hair, introduced my almost husband to my favorite city in the world and also Bojangles, brought him to meet my family/other important people, swum in the Atlantic, have not yet frozen to death in the tundra of American air conditioning and have survived a grand total of about twenty one hours in the car. Pretty great stuff.