Well, I'm back.

[gement]

Advance notice, I'm saying this all wrong and it's hackneyed and obvious. Live with it.

I came home from RotK, and the house was empty, so I proceeded straight to my teen sister's choir concert, already in progress. I stood at the back, in the dark, and listened to the (non-audition) concert band, which sounds like high school concert bands everywhere. And I looked at all the nice, normal, small town hobbi people in the seats, and I realized again.

I left this place six years ago. I pulled up stakes, I packed my things, and I left for good. I've been back for eighteen months, but I'm never really back. You can't go home.

I feel it close to constantly, and usually it feels good. Progressive. Onward and upward. I save and I plan and I prepare and I dream of going back to the Emerald City, and I never properly live here. I can't anymore.

I never thought I would stand in this place. It hurts really bad.

Damn Peter Jackson for spelling it out for me again in letters ten feet tall.

Comments

[pamc.livejournal.com]

I know exactly how you feel. And I too yearn to return to the city of green and grey.