Men look. Women sneer. And the kids just get all saucer-eyed trying to figure out why a grown woman is riding her mountain bike around the neighborhood the same way they do. It’s just not normal in this town. Nearly everything is different about living here and I’ve come to realize that I’ve rather lost my way. This is how it is to be a stranger, I think. Even better, I won’t think at all. I can’t help but wonder what might happen were I to rely on instinct and habit instead. Would I appear as out of place?
A foreign object. She is me. I am her. All so very alien and unfamiliar. And so is the real estate industry in this town. To me, the way real estate is practiced here, it may as well be another industry altogether. After meeting with several of the bigger companies, I’m not sure I belong. And yet my desire to get back in the game is locked up inside of me struggling to escape. Something has to give.
I think I’ve lost my groove. A dead giveaway that something is wrong. It is possible to survive with less than my soul desires, though I am a dark romantic – always in search of elusive perfection, always wondering where, to whom, and if I truly belong. It’s the late night that gives me problems.
One thing is certain: I have big decisions to make.
However it finally happens, it must come to me. That’s the way it has to be; that’s the way it will be. Because I know what I want and I won’t let go until I have it. Whatever that may be.