The fact that I’m an emotional wreck right now means I’m in good shape.

For the longest time I moved around from one town to another, completely rootless and unattached.  Of course I had friends. I always make friends. But those friendships lacked something.  Heart.  My heart that is.  I was too absorbed in my own self-destruction and bullshit to really appreciate all the good people I found everywhere I went.  And so, because of this, whenever it came time to leave them and move on to the next town and the next job, it was easy. Too easy. I never even cried.  Sometimes I didn’t really want to leave, but I also knew I didn’t want to stay.  

Things have changed though.

Now, whenever I leave a town and the people I love, I’m absolutely devastated.  When I left NYC last winter, for instance, I cried for weeks before and after, and eventually had to impose a “no checking NY people’s status updates for awhile.”  This forced me to be where I was, which was Taos now.  Before long I fell in love with Taos and its people all over again, and even an ugly little dog named BoBo.  

So, of course, when it was time to leave Taos in August, I didn’t want to.  I really didn’t want to. Yes, I was excited about coming back to NY, but how could I ever live without those mountains, those hippies, that ugly-ass dog?  

Because NYC is so intense, I didn’t have time to mourn Taos once I got back here.  You really have to hit the ground running when returning to a place like this.  And so I threw myself into New York again and have spent the last three months trying to visit every single person I love here. Boy is that an impossible task!  Playing tetris with just my schedule is hard enough. And then the commute back and forth between here and New Paltz, two trips to Florida for my sister’s bachlorette party and wedding, and then the whole Occupy Wall Street thing made things even nuttier! 

But now, as I imagine myself flying far, far away 3 weeks from today, I must admit, I really, really don’t want to go.  That’s not entirely true. I want to live In South America.  And I want to do it NOW.  But I don’t want to have to leave New York in order to do so.  I also don’t want to abandon a movement that has changed my life, the way I look at my fellow Americans, and my belief in the power of people.  I’m nervous about going to a place where I have to speak like I’m in kindergarden and where I’ll be confused all the time by what the hell people are saying.  And yet, for reasons I don’t understand, this is what I know I have to do.  Just like I knew I needed to come back to New York for unknown reasons, I know I need to go to Argentina. How long I’ll be there, I’m not sure, but, like always, I’ll figure it out.

So maybe my sadness and resistance to going is a good thing.  I’ll take crying a lot over not crying at all in a heartbeat.  It must mean I’m learning how to love people the way I always wished I could. Maybe I’ve finally come to a point in my life when I know I need people, I need to feel rooted, and  I need to feel loved.  I also need people to know that I love the shit out of them too.  This is all good stuff you guys!  I’ve come so far from being the emotionally-detattached woman of my twenties.  I love being sentimental, nostalgic, romantic, and unafraid of having intense emotions.  This is what being human is like!

Of course, maybe one day I won’t be able to handle breaking my own heart over and over again like this.  Or maybe the new relationships I keep finding and the old ones I keep nurturing will make me stronger over the years.  That’s what I’m hoping for at least.

 All I do know is that today I’m sad and excited and full of love and I absolutely wouldn’t have it any other way.