A return to what I'm leaving behind...
If you don't want to read any drivel from my post-thought post-Greece self, don't read this. Now, you've been warned. If you do read on, just deal with it.
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Just back from Athens. It was raining - grey and wet. Here: it was warm, sun-shiney, even breezey -- one of those flower-infused breezes that make you breathe in extra deep to get as much of it in your lungs as you can. The flowers all down the drvie to Moor were in full bloom. Little bits of petals rained down like drops of feathers onto the drive. The sun flitted through thin, newly leafing branches - dream like, almost etherial.
No. No. No. What the crap is that?!
I'm supposed to be going home, supposed to hate this place already! But upon return - I felt at home here. Now wait a minute. No...just - no. I shouldn't feel home here. That's just not right. That's just not...what is it...fair? Right. It's not fair.
So I'm thinking: sitting in Pizza Hut(TM), eating mushroom and green pepper Italian crust pizza with crushed red pepper and grated parmesean after a bowl of salad bar and a little over half a glass of orange Tang with with no ice - that I do feel at home. That, wait, I'm not ready to go home - that I don't really want to leave quite yet.
That's not okay.
I should be itching to see my real home again. I should be yearning to be in my own room in my own city in my own country. I mean, really, I should want to be home - shouldn't I?
*sigh* But too many memories are to blame for that. Too many good times and too many joys and too much growing up is all to blame for that, too. I know I can't stay - that would be like having the old fruit, the same fruit over again. And it would never be so sweet.
Yet my heart misses that fruit. My soul feels the emptiness of this room, my heart knows the emptiness of this place - and it makes me yearn to have the old times: weekend travels, all-nighters with tea and HobNobs, walks to BP and Shell and down strange dark alleys back again.
But - it will get easier.
It has to.
I will return, knowing the old places, seeing the differences in them - and something about it will make like better...okay again...good again. And some day, I will wake up and realize that I'm glad I didn't come back, that it ended, that those days didn't last forever.
Just have to keep remembering that this change is good. That fear need not rule the life that awaits me on the other side. That these days, these changes, these now painful things that must br endured will one day be the very things to be most thankful for.
So, in short, don't really want all this to end. Never really did, I s'pose. But now - more than then - I don't. And yet? It is going to. I'm going to leave and life is going to be different and it has to be that way. One day, we'll all be thankful for it.
Quite sorry it took so long in getting around to it. But, really, that's it.
-RK
Oh and PS: Check your emails if you haven't already. It's GRAVELY important :0D
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Just back from Athens. It was raining - grey and wet. Here: it was warm, sun-shiney, even breezey -- one of those flower-infused breezes that make you breathe in extra deep to get as much of it in your lungs as you can. The flowers all down the drvie to Moor were in full bloom. Little bits of petals rained down like drops of feathers onto the drive. The sun flitted through thin, newly leafing branches - dream like, almost etherial.
No. No. No. What the crap is that?!
I'm supposed to be going home, supposed to hate this place already! But upon return - I felt at home here. Now wait a minute. No...just - no. I shouldn't feel home here. That's just not right. That's just not...what is it...fair? Right. It's not fair.
So I'm thinking: sitting in Pizza Hut(TM), eating mushroom and green pepper Italian crust pizza with crushed red pepper and grated parmesean after a bowl of salad bar and a little over half a glass of orange Tang with with no ice - that I do feel at home. That, wait, I'm not ready to go home - that I don't really want to leave quite yet.
That's not okay.
I should be itching to see my real home again. I should be yearning to be in my own room in my own city in my own country. I mean, really, I should want to be home - shouldn't I?
*sigh* But too many memories are to blame for that. Too many good times and too many joys and too much growing up is all to blame for that, too. I know I can't stay - that would be like having the old fruit, the same fruit over again. And it would never be so sweet.
Yet my heart misses that fruit. My soul feels the emptiness of this room, my heart knows the emptiness of this place - and it makes me yearn to have the old times: weekend travels, all-nighters with tea and HobNobs, walks to BP and Shell and down strange dark alleys back again.
But - it will get easier.
It has to.
I will return, knowing the old places, seeing the differences in them - and something about it will make like better...okay again...good again. And some day, I will wake up and realize that I'm glad I didn't come back, that it ended, that those days didn't last forever.
Just have to keep remembering that this change is good. That fear need not rule the life that awaits me on the other side. That these days, these changes, these now painful things that must br endured will one day be the very things to be most thankful for.
So, in short, don't really want all this to end. Never really did, I s'pose. But now - more than then - I don't. And yet? It is going to. I'm going to leave and life is going to be different and it has to be that way. One day, we'll all be thankful for it.
Quite sorry it took so long in getting around to it. But, really, that's it.
-RK
Oh and PS: Check your emails if you haven't already. It's GRAVELY important :0D