the existential dread sets in

I thought I was homesick, but this is my home now, so that’s not technically correct.

I miss what I know. I miss the familiar.

There’s a level of comfort that comes from walking outside and recognizing the smell of the neighborhood or city or parking lot because there’s an inherent fragrance you expect based on the season and time of day.

You may not have a large number of close friends, but solace is provided by the basic fact you can go to them at any time with anything and they’ll be totally on that level with you. You may have those friends farther away than you want, but after a 2-3 hour drive you know they’ll be down to do whatever you want because you’re the one visiting and they love you for taking the time to do that.

Here, I’m met with unpredictable commute times. With humid, almost tropical fragrances lingering in the air that make no sense to my nose or memories. With friends that refuse to change an at-home dinner menu even though they know I won’t eat the entree (the texture of raw fish freaks me out, ok?!). With a supremely tiny network of real people to interact with to reinforce any sense of existential existence.

Structurally, I’m doing ok in this totally new place. Emotionally, I’m possibly….struggling. I spent some time fangirling over Jordan Hanz (linking to YouTube; I first fell in love with her via her Hanzoween series a couple years ago) when she started regularly streaming on Twitch because I was able to get a couple small conversations in with her in the chat during some of her streams…and that was the fucking highlight of my week because I hadn’t experienced a conversation that “real” with anyone other than my bf in weeks.

I guess I just feel lonely, because nothing is familiar and everything is new and adulting is dumb.

Fuck it. I’m homesick.