I traveled back to the place where I grew up, visiting dear friends whom I have been missing like mad. Driving through the small towns, I felt as if I'd never left as I settled back into the mindset that was in place while I was there. There were only a few times I noticed that I had been absent, only when they started talking about recent events, all of which I had missed out on. This morning as I was coming back, I felt the change that has come over me from the changes my life has presented. I feel like a different person here than I do there and the switching over this weekend made it painfully apparent. Just as I miss being there when I'm here, when I was there I missed the feelings of being here. One feeling in particular. But we'll leave that to be speculated.
I have a theory that my bites/rash that is on my feet, legs, and torso are caused not by some pathogen invading my system but by unknown stress that is slowly making it's way out. Studies have shown how stress tears apart the body and I wonder if that's what this could be. There's so much on my mind all the time and there are few people that I can talk to that I feel like actually listen to what I'm saying. Few being probably one. And I don't want to subject her to this. Lord, when I think of the therapy I'll be in when I'm older to reverse all this damage I've already done, all this damage I will continue to do. Is it sick that I know I'm doing it while it's happening?
I sense a tinge of melancholy throughout this writing but really it's not there. Do you hear it? There is no melancholy in my bones, no sorrow in my tissues. I am content to nearly the most content I've ever been. And I am utterly exhausted from the events of the past six weeks.
Falling is very tiring and totally lovely.
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