Back home
So I have been home in Portland for just about a week now. And every part of me wants to hate it. I hate the circumstances leading up to my choice to come back. I want to hate the fact that I came home. I really want to hate the fact that I'm here. But what I hate the most is that I'm actually at peace with all of it. The last six years went from good to bad to rock bottom. But along the way I met some fantastic people. Made some good friends. A few not so good enemies. And some people who truly changed my life. Some of whom I have whole heartedly loved and will continue to love until I draw my last breath. People who (and not always in a positive way) made me take a long, hard look at who I was and what I was doing with my life. I always told myself I would never go home. Even going through what I was going through I told myself that I would be running from my problems if I came back. I ran away from my problems when I left here. I'm just now realizing that maybe it's time I face them. You can only fix what you accept is broken and I've been broken for some time. I think it's about time I accept that. I have a lot of work to do and I wouldn't want to do it anywhere else but right here. Back home.
