out of place

being out of place has kind of been an unwanted credo in my life. several reasons have contributed to this, moving around, not having a ‘hometown’ like most folks, not ever living in the town where i was born, having a funny last name – whether or not you know what it means, it was always out of place, unusual if you will. being a bit of a nerd in grade school, playing an instrument and being somewhat good at it. being a theatre geek. an opera geek later. it was also strange to have a mother who worked full time. most of my friends growing up had stay at home moms. believe it or not but that made me the odd one out.

this trend of being different continued throughout my life. most teenagers feel different but i actually was. the first half of my teenage years, i grew up in austria where i was, and to some degree always will be, a foreigner. you have to remember, this was the 80s. different times.

the second half i spent in canada. again, not originally from there even though i went to kindergarten there. still, i didn’t share the same childhood as my high school friends.

certain references to kid’s shows, movies, general day-to-day observation about local people and places usually pass by me. i just don’t get them because i didn’t live them.

there’s nothing wrong with this. and i sort of got used to being a bit odd and maybe that’s why i still have trouble making real connections with people, simply because i kind of stopped trying at some point. most definitely subconsciously.

living in slovenia now, in a town where i didn’t grow up or have any family – past or present – is no different. here i am, writing a blog in english, which most people here won’t even read because it’s not in slovenian which is my mother tongue but not the language of my heart. and since i didn’t grow up here, stories from socialist times i always viewed as a foreigner. not to mention that most people still say that i’m american. the blasphemy.

aside from my parents and my brother, the main person, the main constant in my life was always my sister. with her, i never felt out of place. i could be who i actually was. am. well. not really anymore because i no longer know who that is.

we could read each other’s mind. sure, we had lots of fights growing up. all normal. but the love, the connection was never broken.

i don’t want to feel lost without her but i can’t help but feel exactly like that. not just lost. bewildered and overwhelmed because i sometimes can’t even face getting out of bed knowing that her body is lying in a box in the dark somewhere. at the other end of the planet. by the airport no less.

so snap out of it. right?

i can’t.

when a connection like that is broken, it becomes superfluous for one person to still hold on to one end while the other end is absent. adrift somewhere.

i struggle with these tormented emotions constantly. i feel like an empty shell, wandering the planet until one day, i can stop and simply won’t be here anymore. it’s not something i aspire, it’s something that is at the moment. that has been for the last few years.