Ahoy,
There was a time when I despised this place. I was dying to leave. And there was a time when I thought that I was leaving forever. Little did I know that I would still be flying into California. That as undying as my efforts to never look back, I would be looking forward in the same direction. My heart broke every time I walked through that airport, back again from home. And it revitalized every time I left that airport, reinvigorated by the anticipation of home in the Midwest.
I haven't flown into Oakland in a long time, and I never thought I would again. But this time, it was different from all the other times. I realize now that no matter how much I'd like to forget a place, how much I'd like to discard those memories - that'll never happen. I realize now that I've left pieces of myself everywhere I've gone, and in the trade I've taken little pieces of everywhere I've gone with me. More and more, I've come to realize that home is what you make of it, home is where you can find love, home is where you're wanted and missed. Home, for me, has been ever mobile and scattered. Home is many places, and, yet, none at all. Maybe this isn't so for everybody, but in arriving at this airport once again, I've come to accept that home is complicated. For now.
begrudgingly idealistic,
jt
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