Leaving
I'm starting to get ready (at long last). The boxes are getting packed and loaded in the car, the room is starting to look cleaner, everything is falling into place. By this time tomorrow I'll be driving back to California.
It's odd how strange you feel when leaving someplace, even if its a place I have little reason to be attached to. Every goodbye seems poignant for the moment, every farewell important. Then it will all fade into memory leaving only the faint taste of regret upon the tongue, an aftertaste of what once was. It seems like there were things I wanted to do, even though I don't remember them.
Now that it's at an end, the routine of life I followed looks more and more comfortable, even if I regretted coming here in the first place. It's strange, but life has always been strange. In the end, we go on and endure because time does not allow us another option. And you know what? I think I'm happy with that.
One more chapter to close I guess.
It's odd how strange you feel when leaving someplace, even if its a place I have little reason to be attached to. Every goodbye seems poignant for the moment, every farewell important. Then it will all fade into memory leaving only the faint taste of regret upon the tongue, an aftertaste of what once was. It seems like there were things I wanted to do, even though I don't remember them.
Now that it's at an end, the routine of life I followed looks more and more comfortable, even if I regretted coming here in the first place. It's strange, but life has always been strange. In the end, we go on and endure because time does not allow us another option. And you know what? I think I'm happy with that.
One more chapter to close I guess.