Growing up, I moved from town to town. I blamed it on my mom. Sometimes we moved twice in a year.
As an adult, I move from state to state. I blamed it on my wonder-lust. The longest I've lived consistently in one place was 3 years.
The bonds of the people I've needed the most broke when they died.
I will never be a best friend. That place is always reserved for someone more special who has known you longer. I'll never know anyone longer. I'm transient.
I will always be, "ya ain't from around here, girl." I'm not from anywhere. I'm transient.
I have many hobbies, many skills. To keep moving you have to keep learning. "You're doing it wrong", no, I'm doing it different.
I don't claim to be all knowing. 5th generation laborer and "I've been doing this since I was 12", it doesn't make you a messiah. Practice makes permanent, not necessarily perfect.
Be open to trying new things. Be accepting. "Stay in your lane!"
This is why I move again. The shine of the new place wore off. I realize I'm alone again. I don't have strong enough bonds to stay. I can distract myself with adventure. I am transient.
I've been having a hard time this year. I'm certain most people have. 2020 has put an extra layer of stress on the few weak and mostly toxic relationships I had left.
This is NOT a cry for help:
I've been thinking about my death a lot this year (must be Tuesday). I think some of these reasons above are why. I don't have much of a reason to stick around. Gotta wait for pets to pass and student loan debt, so others arn't stuck with the burden. So there's plenty of time before I really start to worry, but I'm not sure why I would stick around of this dieing rock.