escape, of the loveliest kind.

home.

i’ve got three days of it left. and i’m struck again by how close the past is when i’m here. how, at night, or talking to my mom, i can touch it. i can hold it in my hands. past, past, past. i’m fascinated with it, i think. its power over all of us, the mechanics of lingering emotions and images. i saw my best friend from a long, long time ago today. and now, there’s a whole parade of people and feelings marching through my head. it’s a funny thing to examine old versions of yourself, like pulling a faded dress from the back of the closet, holding it up to the light from the window.

i feel like i love the whole world right now. i can’t explain that in any way. i just know that tonight, sleep-bleary, i walked outside around nine and sat on my driveway. i just sat there, for a long ten minutes, not thinking, much. in silence, in perfect silence. i looked at the lights in windows and at the birch trees over my head, and also the stars. when i got in my car, i turned it on quickly, just to open the windows and the sun roof. and then i pressed my head against the steering wheel, listening to the engine somewhere beneath me. eric skelton sang and sang, and i felt that the hum of the car was friendly, like a cat purring. the whole ten minutes of absolute blankness was colored by my sleep deprivation, but those ten minutes of peace are just part of why i love home so much.

even without friends or starbucks or b&n or anything even remotely exciting, i have everything cliche and christmas morning right here.