I had my first major trigger tonight.
I went to a bonfire for a friend's 40th birthday down at Golden Gardens. I left after an hour, and then I sat in my car and cried. The last time I was at a bonfire at Shilshole was with The Gang. I don't have a gang anymore.
Tonight, I spent most of the time standing by myself, staring at the fire, trying to look like I was perfectly comfortable not knowing anyone. One woman talked with me when she learned I was apartment hunting, then some guy who was new to the group (and new to Seattle) tried to chat me up. I'm not at all interested in that crap. I just wanted to go home, curl up in my jammies and watch some comfort tv. Which I'm doing now. Seinfeld.
It's been a long time since I've been alone and unknown in a group. And it made me very homesick. I've never felt homesick for some place other than my parents' place, but I think tonight I'm homesick for my old life. I'm homesick for familiararity and for normalcy. Homesick for a home.
I know the light is just up ahead. Three more weeks, and (hopefully) I'll begin to get settled into my new life, which will be none too soon as I fear I am nearing the very end of my rope. I thought the very end of my rope was three weeks ago, and I was finally starting to work my way upward, but I feel like I've been beaten down a notch or two.
It's a good thing Shaun isn't home tonight.
And that there's no wine in the house...