Leave Idaho

The other day a friend of mine posted "Leave Idaho" on my Facebook wall. The next another did the same thing. I look at those works and think if only.

This weekend I am exceptionally emotional. Why? It's Hobo Days. Sure, it involves a lot of drinking which eludes to crowded bars and stupid people. The game is usually freezing and I actually never experienced a TREMENDOUS Hobo Day. Still, it's Hobo Day.

I miss home. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss my boyfriend. But I can't go home, not yet.

I came to Idaho for a reason, although I don't think I quite understood that reason at the time nor do I now. What I do know is that my purpose in Idaho is not fulfilled, yet.

See, I left college hoping Idaho would be the answer to all of my problems - that my life would easily fall into place. It hasn't, in fact, it's more screwed up than it has ever been. But that is OK. I am learning about myself and I am learning about the person I want to be, even thought I don’t have a clear picture of who that is.

I took this job thinking that I knew a lot about this profession and that I was going to go far. I don't think either of those thoughts anymore. (Side not: Julia Robert's Break Down Here just came on my iTunes. Fitting.) For a long time, I hated my job, I hated this town. I don't love either now, but I am learning to appreciate them. There is a glimpse of hope that I actually might have a future in writing.

Sports journalism, well, I am ready to give that up in a few years. I don't like it like I thought I would, and with every painful game coverage story I write, I realize why I do it. It's making me a better writer. It's a well-known fact that the best writers in journalism are in sports. And some of the world's best writers -- Ernest Hemmingway -- started as sports reporters. So I am going along with it as I develop into a better writer.

The other day, I looked at myself in the mirror and said "I am a writer." That thought never occurred to me. I always just considered myself a journalist, but more each day, I am realizing I want to be a writer. In what avenue? I have no clue, but I want to write. It's the only thing I ever been semi-good at.

These thoughts maybe hard for you to understand, but it's what I think everyday. Because until I feel comfortable as a writer, I can't leave Idaho. That creates a problem.

I miss my friends and family terribly, but they have their own lives. I know that if I come back in a year or two, they'll still love me. It's Scott I worry most about. You see, I have fallen deeply in love with a man 18 hours away. Everyday, all I want is to come home to him. Instead, our visits our two months a part and jammed packed with other things that we rarely get time together. We made a pact to be with each other by next May, but that is still a long ways away. I don't want to leave Idaho because I am not ready to, but I don't want to lose him.

So these thoughts occupy my mind so much, but we both said we would discuss it after a few months when we have a better idea of what we want to do.

Next week, I go home. I am excited but at the same time sacred. Some of my friends who promised me we would see each other are backing out and my time with Scott grows smaller each day. I just wish I had more time with him.

Anyways, this post is all over but that is fitting with my life these days. I do vow to post more often because it will help make me a better writer, but after phoners and gamers, the last thing I want to do is write. I will try better.

For now, God Bless.