The Mountain Is Calling

[punkdout88]

It had been far too long since I had gone "home." Once you establish yourself in a place and begin to set roots, it's extremely difficult to let it go. The closer I got to the west side of Vermont the more I could feel it. The pull inside started to tighten and all the feelings of home came rushing in. I remembered nights by the campfire, acoustic guitar, good friends and hiding drinks in nalgenes. I could feel the sensation of being surrounded by familiar faces. The butterflies that began every athletic season. I remember you and me, and how we could just, be. It was a feeling of freedom, of crippling fear that I was letting you in. And the extreme frustration of knowing I was the only one who was giving in. But I could still feel you in this place. Time and distance has led the natural fire between us burn out. You no longer shake me like you used to. But here in this green place, at the mountain, I can remember it all so clearly. The freckles on your face are so clear, the deep brown of your eyes and the crooked smile that so easily came to your face. Nights in your room, laying there, talking about anything that came to our minds. I would find any excuse just to graze your skin. If I think about it all, real hard, I can still smell your essence. It used to drive me wild. The night you chased me down the stairs because you thought I was walking home alone, you took me in your arms and held me so tightly, so securely. In that moment I felt nothing could ever be wrong in my life again. As long as I had you around, my world would be at peace.
I don't feel it anymore. Not anywhere except here. In our shared place. At first it terrified me that I had lost you, it still doesn't sit right with me. People come and go in your life, yes. I am just not ready to let go of you, of everything we were, and everything I thought we could be.