Thanksgiving in September

It's Thanksgiving that unsettles me the most.
5000 miles from VT, so that's really not an option.
Will I forever be remembering what it was like when Jeremy and I would compete in cranking mashed potatoes into and out of our mouths?
Will I sit on my surfboard this year to mask my tears with ocean spray, while some other J is with the community I wanted to know but am not allowed to now because they were his first?
Someone said it takes two years to settle into a place.
To have it feel like home.
I was half way there. Half way to the only thing I think I've ever truly wanted.
Home.
Must I now begin again?
No matter how bad it got, somehow it was always Thanksgiving that cleared a slate. Or at least put the slate somewhere else for awhile. It was the time when I most felt like I belonged to something. It was what I thought I was evolving to here in this new place.
I thought 2009 would be Thanksgiving as I remember it, want it, need it.
Cooking, loving, laughing, napping.
I spent the better part of today believing it could never be....

...but I think I feel hope's kick.