A Letter to Myself

When I moved away from Northern California I was filled with anxiety. I was thoroughly grounded up there and I had connections everywhere. Leaving burdened me with a strong sense of sorrow that I was going to have to give up the things I love and the people I care about. Two years later I returned briefly. This is what I wrote on the last day of my nostalgic journey to the past:

Finally I'm back home. I've returned to my roots and I'm the place I knew like the back of my hand; all the in's and out's, all the shortcuts and secret spots. I am ready to see those who I left behind. But something is different now: the smell I longed for, the taste in the air, the places I knew and the ones I loved. This place has changed since I left. The warm air I'll never forget is now cold and the people are different. My girl has a man and my old friends have moved on. A new breed of people have come to call this place their home. I am no longer indigenous. 

I truly believe home is where your heart is tells you it is. No matter where we choose, no matter why, no matter how. It's that simple. This change has successfully taught me to let go. Seeing all the places I used to frequent and associating the word "past" with them is now freeing and euphoric. I never dreamed of this. It's as if this town is another world; a world away from what I am now familiar with. In a lot of ways I gather a bad feeling from it. I now hold a new sense of humility; a feeling I have became recently acquainted with and strongly accustomed to. While It is wonderful in some ways yet troubling in others, I enjoy it.  So in closure I'll leave my signature on the bell tower and bid this town farewell.... For good.