Maybe I’m a little overwhelmed. I’m not the type to admit it. I’ve wanted to live my entire life at break-neck pace, pushing myself to take on more, be more. Maybe it’s the competitive side of me that would rather fail than not try. 

In the last two months, everything in my life has changed. The steady job that I loved is over. The familiar Pittsburgh skyline, the rolling greenness of trees just beyond it – they’re gone. Now I’m living in a place so hot and flat my sweat sizzles on the sidewalk like jalapenos in a pan. There are so many people here they require a DMV the size of a small airport with standing room only in both hangars. 

Back in Pennsylvania, I didn’t bother trying to process the impending changes – that could come later. The evenings once spent writing were repurposed for finding a house, comparing mortgage lenders, and bartering down my interest rate. I needed to study for another pharmacy law exam and box up towels, not try to consider how far away I’d be from snow. 

Now I’m finally here, putting the last dish away in my new kitchen cabinets, and the sadness descends like a veil of rain. A cold rain, cold enough to make me sluggish. I can’t pretend my way through this one. Here comes that unmistakable pang of dread – I can’t hide from these thoughts. This isn’t home and what if I can’t make it become one? 

This is what I wanted and prayed for. A new life, a new start, a new place. We’ve finally taken a step out of the weeds and into a level place. Then why do I feel this way? Why can’t I just be happy? 

When I get sad, when I can’t stop thinking, my mind always seems to turn to the people I’ve lost. In some ways I think that’s the truest weight of sorrow inside of me, as if every other pain I experience is just a doorway into that dark cavern.

They’re always there, living in the back of my mind. So close but no longer real. Memory cruel but necessary – our anchor for the future. They go with me no matter where I go. Even the dreams fulfilled are tainted with what it would have been, like a sock that doesn’t quite fit right, wrinkling between your toes.

It’s 9:30 at night and still more than 90 degrees outside. Tommy, Snoop, and I just returned from our ritual walk in the neighborhood, this time down to the playground. I pushed back and forth on a swing while Tommy released Snoop from his leash and launched a stick across an empty field. I watched them for a while, Snoop’s sleek body hurtling through grass, silhouetted against cedar elms and a fading sky. I felt a smile coming, still tinged with remembering, but thankful, nevertheless. Thankful to be alive and to see the stars awaken. Thankful to remember that I won’t always feel this way.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, but even if it’s not, for their sake I’ll put on tennis shoes and a smile. Still, I’ll try. We’ll walk and talk it out. Like we always do.

I don’t regret coming. I know there’s beauty here; I just need the eyes to see it. Fields of sunflowers. A vast blue sky. Lake water that feels more like a bath. A ginormous Kroger so meticulously stocked that I swell with pride. If only dad could see these rows of canned goods. 

But until I can feel the beauty without trying, I’ll just keep searching for it. Maybe I can’t be as strong as I would like. Maybe I can’t let go of the past, let go of these thoughts, but still, I can move forward. Pick up my new library card. Begin the hunt for Frisco’s best chai latte. Tomorrow or the next day. It’s all any of us can do. 

When I fear my faith will fail, Christ will hold me fast;
When the tempter would prevail, He will hold me fast.
I could never keep my hold through life’s fearful path;
For my love is often cold; He must hold me fast.

He will hold me fast, He will hold me fast;
For my Savior loves me so, He will hold me fast.

Those He saves are His delight, Christ will hold me fast;
Precious in his holy sight, He will hold me fast.
He’ll not let my soul be lost; His promises shall last;
Bought by Him at such a cost, He will hold me fast.

For my life He bled and died, Christ will hold me fast;
Justice has been satisfied; He will hold me fast.
Raised with Him to endless life, He will hold me fast
‘Till our faith is turned to sight, When He comes at last!

-Ada Habershon and Matt Merker