Tonight I am feeling rootless. Or maybe not so much rootless but potted. I feel like a plant that had its roots in a small coastal town in North Wales, but before I had even matured I was dug up and potted for ease of transport. Every time I move I feel like they stick me back in the ground, but they never remove the pot. It's always there, around my roots, never allowing me to truly get settled in one place. I suppose it makes it easier to yank me out should I need to go somewhere else, but sometimes I so badly want my roots to tangle deep into the earth and settle. I want to be a fixed part of a place.
Sometimes there are people that ground me, that make me feel like I am home, and like I would matter if I leave. However, ultimately they don't often stay that way. It never stops scaring me, how easy it would be to just get up and leave. To just be somewhere else, be someone else, doing something else. I don't want that. All the wanderlust was stomped out of me from a young age after many privileged journeys abroad and many not so privileged moves, in which I once again tumbled all my stuff into boxes and picked up a new life in a new place.
I just want a place to belong. A place I can finally update my address with the bank to because I know it's going to be there for more than a year or two. A place I know, with people I've known for longer than a few years and have not moved on from or fallen out with because 'who cares it's only temporary anyway'.
I'm starting to feel like if I keep fighting I can have that with someone, but sometimes it's just hard to feel like such a temporary person.
If you can't tell I'm moving house, which is why I've been so internet MIA