Why did I ever think that this moniker would last?

I am back in the states after a few aborted attempts at living in Sicily. A decision based on a dream of going back, but needing to eat when we arrive and have a place to live.

I have been here since October. And I miss my past. Perhaps this is part of the being married thing, or perhaps it is my overcompensation to married life. I woke this morning with a dream of someone from my past and we were looking at letters.

Tonight I roamed the web and found a few people I once knew. I wrote an email, posted a comment. I doubt that I will hear from them, because after all, I am in their pasts too. And what is there to talk about anyway?

We hate the invasion, equally, I am sure, we all yearn for decent bread and strong jumping off the plate cheese, we all have been in love and made our choices. So I am not sad that my past is not present, but I reflect on the name of this blog.

Why in training? Why even think about becoming someone? someone else? Or is it just someone else I also am?

These few months of marriage here in the States have been difficult. The cultural differences are difficult. I realize that Sicily was not what I thought it was, and The States are not what he thought they were.

So, what's to become? What's to train for? A place that is a shadow of a promise?

I am not euphamistically speaking of life as a married person or of the person I married. I am writing about the places.

We are two people in one place but it is so different for each of us, that there is no shared journey. Loyalty and love and understanding, our place is still just building.

But the dream was good. It was strange, and strange that it would come now, but it was good.
Like being a traveler in my past. Although of course the event never took place, but the feeling did, the longing did, the discovery did.

The place did. The looking into the place did.


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