I woke up before the sun to get on the road. it being 20 below outside, I layered with long johns, ski pants, down jacket, ski jacket, my big black diamond gloves, a fleece hat. I was well on the road when the sun started dawning in the sky behind me and was beginning to light up the frozen morning sky. as I was crossing ridges and saddles down into the valleys of I-90, heading west, I was so moved by the stunning beauty of the frozen peaks and the vast valleys I cried a little. I realized how much I have come to love montana. I always have, but now it has come to have a more profound place in my life. thought I have struggled in bozeman, I have also become more attached, have finally adjusted and it would be incredibly hard for me to leave the state, go back to living anywhere else. much less portland.

as before, and a few times over, portland blows my mind. it’s a busy city with so much happening and so much going on. moving to bozeman was a huge adjustment to get used to the fact that nothing happens most of the time. here something happens all the time. I love portland, and when I made it here, once again, I was overwhelmed by this feeling of coming home, but to an estranged home. i don’t want Portland to be home anymore. I don’t want to yearn to be back here anymore, like I often have. i understand now how much I have changed. culturally I am in a very different place than I have been, to a point that I feel like there’s no sense in trying describe to someone how different life is on the far side of the mountains. I live in paradise.

I passed through Cour d’Alene lake and my familiar spot where I used to sleep the night on my way to montana, just to break up the drive, and more importantly because from there on out, I wanted to savor the scenery and take it all in during the day in it’s breathtaking glory. I chuckled to myself at the thought of how much I yearned to be in montana then, how much everything has changed since the pain that drove me there, and the fact that I am in montana now. I am in paradise.

arriving in portland also still gives me a slight nagging feeling of knowing that dickhead is in this town. STILL. somewhere. there are a lot of people in this town who hurt me. tremendously. I understand that there will be less for me here year by year and I think I like it that way. I am fine with it. I think because of the way I left, I will probably always feel like there are debts in this town that have never been paid. things that will never be resolved. it has been a couple years now, maybe some things never die. I never knew I could hold a grudge for that long, but then again I never knew someone could do the things he did. maybe I will never forget or forgive. there’s no reason to forgive, but should I forget?

I am not sure that I should ever forget. there’s a universal expectation to move on, forget and not to care at all anymore, but how can I? why should I? should I? I doubt that I will ever be effected by him any less. I doubt that I will ever become numb to him. he will always have had a huge impact in my life and I will always hate him just the same.

it also brings me huge satisfaction to see my choices and what I have made out of all that misery. I have an amazing relationship with someone I love deeply. I have a very healthy and balancing relationship that allows me to be happy and content. maybe James is what I have needed all along? or.. at least by now I can recognize the good thing that he is. and perhaps my rollercoaster of a life needs him to allow me to be me. I don’t live for drama, in fact I want my home to be a peaceful place, a haven, if you may. where ever we are, when we are together, feels like I am home.

when I was logging miles under the big sky, I also reveled in being alone. I love traveling alone. I always have. even though through out my life and travels, I always wished I had someone to share it all with, now in my thirties, I acknowledge that traveling alone out of necessity has eventually turned into loving to be alone. LOVING to spend time with myself. loving life hanging out with me. I have always been my best friend and I believe it’s a true blessing and a gift. being able to be your own best friend is a sacred blessing. no matter where I go, I am always having fun because, well, I showed up. and most of the time, if I am having a hard time, the best cure is to take sometime for myself.