Nomadic Life

I met a girl the other day and I was telling her about how I move every few months and travel all the time.  She said “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

I think that was the first time someone asked that. I said not really. I have friends all over and I make new friends everywhere. It might be harder to make new friends now that I am sober or different types of friends. I don’t want to become friends with people just because we have sobriety in common just as much as I regret having friends with whom partying was our bonding thing. I get lonely sometimes because I am single but I also think of the wonderful things I can do as a single woman.

As far as lonely without family, I feel happier the further away from that drama as possible. My mom is the only one that matters to me.  I have a new niece that I will probably never see. My brother and sisters use their kids as pawns in their greedy games and I just want to step back from it all. Wash my hands of their issues. I have my own problems.

My nomadic life is unusual.  It fit well into my partying ways of the past. If I made too much of a drunk fool of myself in one city, I would move again. Start over. I am starting to think I am getting too old for living out of my car and storage units.  I do want to have a base to call home. But I will miss my flexibility to travel long-term. Putting my stuff in storage rather than paying rent is cheaper while I go explore Asia or South America. I guess I am on the fence whether I need to quit. Maybe I will find a 12-step program for people addicted to travel. Wanderlust Anonymous.

Mistake 166- I was visiting some friends for a Pride weekend picnic. I spent the afternoon flirting with a friend of a friend. I always had a crush on her but she had a girlfriend. Her girlfriend was away for the weekend.
After a day of drinking and a night of partying, I woke up in her bed. We were both hungover and horrified. She had me get up and dressed quickly. She was reeking with regret. This made me feel worse.
When I tried to confide in our mutual friend, he got mad at me. “How could you do that! Her girlfriend is really nice. ” He blamed me. It was all my fault. I was always the drunk slut so it was always my fault. I was glad I did not live there anymore so I could just leave and avoid ever meeting the girlfriend.

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