There is a local coffee shop I've grown fond of here. My roomate works there as one of his jobs, so it helps that I get free coffee but...
Either way, their coffee is the best in the area, and everyone that works there is clearly really passionate about what they do, and it shows. They take care of their employees more than most places do, and every time I go into one of their shops I get a warm reception. feminine or masculine presentation, folks there are generally queer and not judging.

Today turned out to be a surprisingly nice day, so I took advantage of it and took a walk to their local shop. It's the last nice day I'm going to see here, and it's nice for it to be like mid 50s-60s and sunny out, as if saying goodbye.
There are places I'm going to miss, but I have an appreciation for the memories and times I've had more than a sense of sorrow.

As these days wind up to the end of the month, and my new beginning across this country, I'm reminded of my young self that, since high school, wanted to go out west, and generally anywhere more progressive than Cleveland, Ohio. Though I was shown the better parts of the city, and grew in my fondness, that feeling persisted.

abuse, rape mention 

Through my descent I could not control at the end of High School that left me in an abusive relationship, homeless and estranged from family. Through my rape and my gradually crushing dysphoria that sank me into the deepest, loneliest pit over the next years... The one thing I could never shake was Hope. To my deeply depressed self it was -annoying- *laughs* I didn't understand HOW I was clinging on or how I had hope, but I did.

So, I ended up taking advantage of federal aid once I was old enough to not be reliant on my parents financial information to get it, and went to a local college. I became the first person in my [immediate] family to have a degree, and though it hasn't gotten much use yet, it's still a hell of an accomplishment.
My dream of moving elsewhere to an accepting place had gone from bright plans to crushed, to slowly healing over the years of healing myself and focusing on myself.

Here, at the end of it, I find myself around folks in a community I didn't even dream of actually existing in my playful youth.
I find my passions and dreams rekindled in a massive fire, and myself standing in front of it. ALIVE.
I find myself about to do the thing that I have dreamed of doing since I was a teenager, and I find myself realistic enough to make it work, and dreamer enough to make it an undying passion.

I find myself the very example of how a life can turn around.

I certainly didn't do it alone, but only I could have stepped forward, and... I'm proud of myself. I am SO fucking proud of myself, and thankful for everyone that believed in me, and still does.
I never thought I was doing so good at the time. I thought I was just surviving, but it turns out sometimes... surviving is a really hard thing to do.
I also never imagined I could thrive and BE ME at the same time. Gods.

@Oneironott Your timeline right now reminds me a lot of the last few days before I moved to NYC. For me, it was an overwhelming sense of liminality that really got to me. The joyful anticipation of the beautiful new place I'd be soon, but the weight of memories from the place I was then heavy on my heart. I empathize a lot with what you're saying, and I'm really excited on your behalf =]

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