Returning Home

When I met you, I was looking to meet no one.

When I knew you, I wanted to know only myself.

You came into my life like a gush of wind,

And you left it like a breath of cold air; crisp, harsh, and unforgettable.

 

We come from different lands, different cultures, different ideals.

We have different pasts, different understandings, different goals.

Yet I seek to know you more, though miles and miles are between us.

And I seek to know you better, yet I know you better than many others.

How is this possible and what is it that has left this imprint on my soul?

Is it my heart that beats so loudly, which I can feel up in my throat?

Or is it my pride, my fear of letting go, and my urge to want that little piece of my soul back which I left behind with you?

Why did you choose not to say good bye?

Why did you choose to let me go?

Is it just that you too had left a bit of your soul with me to take home? 

A piece that you could later come to reclaim?

Or is it that you just chose to take the easy way out, and check out?

Though all of these questions fill my head, slowly shoving out the memories that we recently shared, I am proud of the questions and the memories.

I may have left something behind in that mountain adventure, but I brought back with me a knowledge that my wall is not so high, my heart not frozen and closed,

And I now know that if nothing else, I am still open to love, and for that, I thank you.