I don't think I could go back. The past closes up behind one somehow. One would rather have a new kind of misery. The old kind seems like death or unconsciousness. You can't force yourself back into that mold again. No, one can not go back.-Willa Cather, The Song of the Lark
It was strange to return to a place that doesn't belong to me but still has a bit of me in it. Vancouver was as pretty and exciting as I remember. It felt good to walk through the city, watching the people and sharing that hum of life with them. It seemed different too, a little more angry and dirty. I guess we're both a little different now.
I belong in the desert. I know because right before I went into the airport I obeyed an urge to put my face to the sun and feel it through my eyelids, filling me up like water in a glass. It felt like the sun was sending me a message of contentment.
I don't think it's a good idea to go leaving pieces of myself all over the place but I decided to leave that little piece of me in Vancouver. It might cause a little bit of longing, but it belongs there.
1 comment:
As one who has moved many times in my life, I can totally relate to your words. Thank you for describing these feelings better than I ever could
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