What it means to be alone

I was out on another walk today, and not too long after I left my apartment, I found this tiny shoe lying on the side of the road. I picked it up, awed at it's size, and admired it as I continued to walk. It had to be for a newborn, either that, or a doll. But, there was only one. Completely worthless. Or was it?

Farther down the trail, as I was walking through the leaves that were covering the path, I looked over towards the bottom of a tree, and right there was a group of beautiful purple flowers growing by themselves. I looked all around that area, and could find no others among the yellow and brown leaves. They too were alone, a last glimmer of life among the dead leaves of fall.

I can understand that shoe and those flowers. I myself am in that postion right now, a transplant, a bit of a loner. After graduating from college and moving to a new town to start a new job. I've been here for four and a half months already, but I've only been here for four and a half months. I've been asked several times if this place feels like home yet, and I think almost every time I have answered yes. But, as I was walking along today, thinking about that question, I came to another conclusion. I think I maybe don't feel quite like this is home yet, but I do feel like I belong here.

Like the shoe, I am not yet complete here, and I haven't developed a lot of the close relationships that would truly make this place feel like home. In some places and with some people it is starting to feel like home, but the full transition has not yet occurred. But like the flowers, though I am somewhat out of my element, I am still growing here, and I am learning in the process. In any case, I am here, and I am doing my best to figure out where I fit, and what my purpose is here. It's ongoing, and I think it will be for quite some time. Here's to anyone that is finding their place in life - you'll make it.