I gave my notice on my apartment and my job, and moved in with a friend for a month to save some money.
I continued to live my lifestyle, but I knew that once I got to California things were going to change. I would get personal with God again, I would give up partying, I would make friends who had depth and quality. Friends I actually chose to be friends with, friends I hoped would become like family.
And then I got a phone call from my step dad a week before we were to all move. He asked me if I was sitting. Then he told me the job fell through. They weren’t going after all. They were staying in B town.
My heart sank.
Yet, the words I had written that emotional night still clung to my soul. I was getting out. I was leaving all my hurt, pain, and bad choices behind me.
I knew one guy in California. He had been a waiter and an aquaintance at the local Red Robin, and I remember him mentioning he was going to California to manage a restaurant there. So, I took a chance and called his restaurant and explained my situation. I asked if he was hiring and if he happened to know anyone who needed a roommate. He told me to come on down, he would help me set it all up, and I could crash on his couch for a month until I got settled.
He was the only one I knew there, but that was enough for me.
And so, a week later….with my Honda Accord packed to the roof, I said yet another goodbye to my family. And this time I knew I wouldn’t be going back.
I was going to start over. I was leaving all the bad choices and memories, the hurt and the pain….
I would miss my family…but I needed my smile. I needed my laugh. I needed happiness. And it had been years since I seen any of it in B town.
I put on the Dixie Chicks, Wide Open Spaces, and sang my theme song all the way to California.
My dreams were coming true.
© 2009 “Le Musings of Moi”