Living out of a suitcase…

There is that certain point in your life where you become homeless, even if you have a roof over your head your sense of home becomes a land of confusion. For all of us there’s a point of transition that for some of us continues on for years or lifetimes. I used to know where everything was, my life had order and my clothes were hung up neatly in my closet. Living out of suitcases and boxes for three years now, I used to be between Tampa and New Port Richey every weekend packing up my bags every weekend from what used to be my childhood home.

Then it was off to college, back and forth between different dorm rooms every semester and then back home again. I guess I paid $30,000 to learn how to pack a room. Then came the traveling in between, to New York City and Europe every time I turned around I was packing up and unloading another suitcase. Sometimes my suitcases sat half unpacked for months as life swirled up upon me. When you travel you really find out that you can survive with much less than all you own, I remember coming home from Germany for a month and cleaning out half of my closet knowing I didn’t need ALL of that stuff.

It seems that even still today, even after three months in Greenville. I still don’t have an address and many of my things are still in sealed bags and boxes. I feel that I will be staying in Greenville as long as possible, it should feel like home… I love it here in my foothill home among the mountains. Yet there is still that tinge of sorrow for places once been, I still miss the warmth of the fireplace during the winter time, summer nights dancing at The Castle, the rainy nights upon streets of Leipzig. A world citizen, belonging to where ever I create memories. My suitcases will always be packed in my head, full of times long past. People that are missed beyond words, the ones I haven’t met yet.

Today returning back to Florida to what used to be home for so many years is strange, sleeping in my old bed and picking up the pieces of the things I left behind. It always feels like a step back, but I look how much I have moved forward in just the last couple of months. I miss Greenville already… I guess home goes beyond walls or location, it’s where we choose to place our pathways. The wonder of looking back on what was a year ago, where I called home at the time. It’s amazing how much has changed (not only hair color!) but I would have never thought I would find the right path. Find your way and you will find your home.

What makes a home to you?
-Miss Destructo

5 Replies to “Living out of a suitcase…”

  1. Danielle Miller-Gilliam says: Reply

    What a moving post. You are wise for your years, lady! I have always felt displaced or out of place…have never been able to put a finger on why…

  2. Indeed, home is much more then walls, a roof or a location. Sometimes you know where your home is. Sometimes you still have to search for it. Some will never find it. They say ‘Home is where your heart is’ It’s just a wisdom, easely spoken to comfort you. The problem is; where is the heart?
    (Wolfgang, The Bad Wolf)

  3. Miss Destructo says: Reply

    Wolfgang. I love your comments. They have always brighten up my blog posts and made me think.

    “Where is the heart?”

    That really is the question.

    It’s all over the place.

  4. Location: Café LUX
    Time: Saturday 11:00 am
    State of mind: Unknown
    Drinks: Cappuchino
    Drugs: Cigarettes
    Music: Radiohead, U2, Bruce Springsteen (Streets of Philadelphia)

    Picture 1
    Observing the peaceful crowd
    Hearing fragments of conversations
    Staring holes into the walls through the smoke of my cigaret.
    Listening to the music
    Drifting away

    Picture 2
    “Hi, may i have another cappuchino, please”
    “Yeah, sure! Everything’s allright”
    “Thanks dear”
    Another cigaret
    Feeling my eyes getting wet

    Picture 3
    Paying my bill
    Going home….

    Home is where your heart is… right?!

    (An older blog entry)
    Yepp, you’re right! Our heart can be in many places and that is what hurt us… sometimes

  5. Wow … me, I’ve really been struggling a LOT the past 4 years with what “home” means. My first year living here in Florida really pulled the rug out from under me, even though I wanted to be here; only 2 seasons? Hot and Really Hot?!? (The prospect of moving to Florida for many people, myself included, does not always include the “down” side of living here, something that to a non-Floridian doesn’t really exist, lol.) My birthday’s in October – that was the worst, I think. Nothing like the smell and colors of autumn in Northwest Ohio to go along with the new beginnings heralded by celebrating a birthday. Well, none of that here! (Although now I don’t feel that way so much.)

    And don’t get me started on dry season. I never experienced brush fires in 33 years of my life before moving down here. And I discovered hurricanes are boring compared to Midwest weather. Boring during the event, and full of hassle after they pass.

    Don’t get me wrong, I *love* living in Florida! I HATE being cold. Hate. I LOVE palm trees! Love! *throws arms around a palm tree* The other things, while potentially devastating, are ultimately temporary.

    And there’s a host of other issues I’m not going to discuss on the very public forum of blog comments, lol.

    So yeah, you did a great service to me by posting your thoughts on this subject. Thank you for providing your insight, and to Wolfgang … thank YOU, too!

Leave a Reply