|It's just me.|
I am my mother's daughter.
Though if you asked her, she'd deny it.
My step dad laughs when he says, "At least she's not milk toast."
And my boyfriend nods and replies, "Right."
It's just that, in this particular venue, it's as if I am sheltered from myself and all of the things I used to know. Pieces of me have inadvertently been left behind as my life has shifted shape between each new place.
I am adaptable.
Though homesickness is a novel lament here.
I wasn't meant to live with six months of cold like this.
"I'll keep you warm," he says.
It's time to get back to the basics. Perhaps the Midwest isn't stifling. I've just been a little lost because the circumstances which led me here are the kind that make people crinkle their brow and apologize for lack of anything else to say.
Welcome to my newest home.