012 - a postcard
i caught a bus down, just after sunset. i saw a boy, probably in the first years of high school, sitting alone and drifting off to sleep against the window, we were the last two left. i left him alone, as i stepped out, into the streets. i walked through the streets, unknown but still somehow familiar. i passed houses and saw the pockets of light, saw families eating dinner together. i saw the sky, and remembered that out here, the stars are just bright enough to see.
so many of my memories are tied up in the physical world. in the scents of food, of the rain, of my friends, in the feeling of touch against my skin or gravel under my feet, in the colour of the sunset, in songs, in suburban streets. i have weeks when i don't really go outside, when i start to feel like the world is empty save for my current moment, only for my life to be brought back to me in an instant in the afternoon sun, in a warm drink, in the arms of a friend.
i find myself noticing something different each time i return to these parts - the cold, the empty lots and abandoned construction sites, city lights, the endless drone of cars echoing off the hills. tonight, i see the stars and feel the wind trickle down my collar. my family moved for the last time a year before i was born, i spent just short of two decades there myself. my house now is warm, and full of friends, but i still turn my head when i hear footsteps.
tonight, despite the distance, despite the unfamiliar streets, i feel like i'm home.
~