Planting trees in the desert

Been in Arizona for a year now. It’s been strange. How I ended up here I don't know but then I’ve never really went much of anywhere with purpose. I was running. Been running since I was 16 and I know in my bones this still isn’t it, but it is different, it’s closer to whatever the fuck ‘home’ is. The day I came down here I was mad, so fucking mad. My heart was hurt even if it didn’t have the right to be. I’ve never known how to feel stuff half way or with much grace. I threw a few things in my truck, called my ex and told him “I have to go, you have to get the kids from school, I have to go”. He understood. Me running off wasn’t a new development. Left in such a panic I forgot my makeup bag and medication…it was, is, a coping mechanism. South, I wanted to feel warmth. I drove south like the devil was chasing me feeling the tightness in my chest ease as I hit new counties and states at 85mph. Got here and rented this ridiculous Aribnb, 7 bedrooms, pool the whole deal. I wandered around that house feeling anything but myself in the lushness and that was all I needed was anything but myself. Called my best friend from growing up who I hadn't seen in years. He came over and again, not myself. He was the same person I remember exactly, life had molded me into something new, worn me down in some ways built me up in others. I had been sitting up in Nevada for a year doing the glamper life thing after my divorce trying to figure out what the fuck? Truthfully I loved Nevada so much I would have stayed if it didn’t hurt so bad. That was where we bought our first house, it was by far any bit of home I felt I had. Being in the sunshine here, it felt right, fuck it, this is where the universe sent me, this is where I’m going. It could have been anywhere, my heart was ready to move on, just happened to be here. The property I purchased aint much to write home about, but it’s mine and it gives me something to occupy my time. First six months were this amazing period of growth. I sat on my living room floor for a month painting mandalas in my underwear while I cried about everything I’d never cried about in my life. This intense release of things I’d never felt safe enough to feel came out. This wasn’t what I had pictured. Not at all. I thought often about abandoning ship. But I can’t. I have to see this one through. Sat up at night looking at airline tickets all too often wanting to run away. Diving into Phoenix the planes flying in overhead haunted me and visions of just slinging my backpack on teased. I waited until I felt like I was done grieving everything to go anywhere, I sat alone with everything and felt it, no drugs or alcohol, no running, just felt it all. Moved onto start turning it into something. Doing all the work myself is hard and some days I want to quit. I get mad at throwing a shovel into this hard ground over and over, having to learn how to wire lights and switches, tile….this is all stuff I could have lived without learning. Something keeps pushing me on though, this is my medicine right now. Planting trees in the desert. Ground so stubborn I think this must be what my soul is molded out of. If you can get anything into it, it’ll live forever on a drop of water. I chalk it up to some of us have to so fully rid ourselves of the notion that anyone is ever coming to save us and this is my task. I have no family to fall back on, the idea that I’ll meet some man who’s going to help me in life has all but deserted my heart. I had hope for way too long, thought I’d have the things I never had growing up, thought I’d have someone, anyone. Killing that hope, it’s been so healthy. The amount of times I’ve sat down and cried or hit things out of frustration is embarrassing. How should I hold this big heavy thing up while I nail it in, or carry a couch into the house by myself, my hands have bled from clearing ground…just keep on cussing myself. Figure it out. Guess if I had to call this period in my life anything it’d be “figuring it out”. I am not the same person I was a year ago, not even a little bit. I am this thing that refuses to be broken anymore or run away. I'm content most days and suppose that's the best I've ever been. It's good.