"Parting from friends is a sadness- a place is just a place." - Dune
So, my sister and I watched Blazing Saddles again tonight, and while I enjoyed it, it brought home a simple, unpleasant truth.
I miss the FUCK out of my compadres.
Where I used to be able to drag my broke ass across town and always find a couch to crash on and a place at table, I now find myself more or less trapped at home until I head for Kobuk.
The little things- casual abuse shared by people who knew better than to be offended by it. Someone to bitch about things with who didn't feel the need to solve my fucking lame-ass problems.
A shared sense of identity, honestly. When in the company of my weird, heavily-armed family, I always know where I stand. I belong as I don't think I ever have before (which speaks volumes about just how fucked up the folks I run with are). I can truthfully say that they are "home" in their own twisted way.
I miss the hell out of 'em, but I'm taking the long view- I may be in Kobuk for just two years, or I may live there for twenty.
But whether I'm thirty and bored with it or I'm sixty and the thought of an Alaskan Arctic winter is more than I can stand, I know some folks who'll put me up.
And that's worth remembering.
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