Starting Over

I've lived in every timezone in the continental United States since graduating college in 2001. First it was Seattle. Then Colorado. Eventually, I became a Texan. And now, it's Atlanta. I'm on my 4th phone number and 9th address in 9 years.

One might think that I liked moving around...that it was easy...and that this kind of transition was exciting and fun.

I don't. It's not. And, OK, it kind of is. A tiny little bit.

My job and life in Seattle came with built-in friends. I worked in an office with five other recent grads. Two of them were insta-friends, and we still keep up with each other today.

When I traded in excellent coffee, delicious Thai food and overcast, drizzly skies for mountain adventures, academia and the sunniest city in America, it came with built in community. Full-time grad student. Lived on campus. So. Much. Fun. That group of people graduated and moved on, but the transition to life in Boulder was smooth because my life, friends and church all remained constant.

Then I prayed for a year and a half that God would teach me to trust and obey Him more. He sent me to Texas. I cried. No joke.

Austin was a hard move for me...but it had relationships waiting. My big brother lived there for years, and I knew many of his friends. It was easy. Sure, there were some stumbling blocks along the way, but there were people to call, things to do and social events happening.

Then I quit my job and decided to run back to the mountains as quickly as possible. And I did. For a month. But a phone call while driving around Lake Dillon one afternoon started the conversation that would eventually bring me back from Summit County to Austin for a few months before moving...to Atlanta.

I always said I'd go anywhere but the deep South.

Never say never.

But it's Atlanta - not the "deep South." Not really, anyway. But it sure is new. It's new and unfamiliar. There are about four street names and 400,000 streets. It's hilly. Everywhere. So I decided to train for the Nashville Marathon because it's a hilly course and a fun race. Besides, I have all the time in the world to run with an empty social calendar. At least not one that was easily double and triple booked on a regular basis. At least with options to be.

Now I'm starting over. From scratch. Well, almost scratch. I've known my closest coworker since elementary school...but he's married with a baby on the way. There's one girl with whom I graduated high school...but we hadn't spoken for almost 13 years. One friend from youth group is in the suburbs...with two young children. And then there's one friend from Boulder who just relocated for a similar job...living in the suburbs, as well.

So there are a few people that I know, and I'm thankful for them. But this time, it truly is starting over. I've met new people. But they're new. They don't know my story, and I don't know theirs. We don't have shared memories. There are no "remember when" moments that make sense.

Yet.

That's what I have to keep telling myself. Those relationships will develop. There'll be people I can call if I just want to hang out and do nothing. I'll stop depending on my iPhone GPS like it's a source of oxygen. And one day, I'll have someone to whom I can turn and say, "remember when..."