Do you recall that angst you had in your youth? It was driving you to leave home, or to get away from the familiar. Oh sure! There was a destination: higher education, a job waiting or the chance to share an apartment with friends. The desire had purpose. It was also natural, if not necessary.

This step required you to alter, even break the original relationships you had with people who grew up with you, who raised you. That growth caused a permanent change in the nature of those precious connections. I accept it’s a cycle of life. New ties are formed or change their grip. What would it be like if we try to go back? Is it even possible now that you are who you’ve become? They say you can’t go home again, but memories do make it enticing.

The Road Home is Uphill

The road home is uphill, no matter which path I choose. 
Still, I scout the routes hoping steps that 
led me away can smooth my return.
My stride altered over the years, but my memory points
remain steadfast.
Now I bend humbly. Anxious to rise above the arrogance of my
departure. I wasn't cruel. Wasn't heartless. I was self-serving 
and urgent; or so I thought.
I wish intentions in my youth could melt hearts, 
easing this homecoming - no matter the distance travelled 
- no matter the distance experienced.
Otherwise, why am I drawn back?
A moth lured to the original encounters, to the love.
So I set out to return to that semi-unknown.
There's a familiar sensation on this journey, 
matching those of my leaving.
Is this me running? As fast as I left?

B. Toner         April 2024