It's Where the Heart Is....Was

Here I was on a plane home from Illinois, a plane that I had hoped would bring me solace, comfort and put me on the mend. As to not sound ungrateful, the love supplied to me by my grandmother was unique and irreplaceable, the joy bestowed upon me by the children of my best friend was both exhilarating and magical in its ability to heal a heart, a weary soul and a tired body.

My trip was planned to reach out to one of my dearest friends whom I have known for a long while--we are both in search of comfort and have found another link to solder the chain which binds us in life even tighter and stronger. What I found whilst there, was a pile of wreckage left behind in my escape to New York City: stones left unturned, familial bonds frayed at best and ahome I once inhabited and loved now vacant, on the market and in need of TLC.

The family, well, that will take time to make amends with old wounds which continue to fester as old habits die even harder. Melissa--she is the one who needed me most, so I came because the timing JUST-FELT-RIGHT. I lover her, as I love all of those dear to me, even when my ways of showing it lack the warmth, closeness and intimacy sometimes needed. We realized we are forever bonded in our disease and will never leave each other's side. A compensory glance is all it takes or the utterance of a word--I KNOW you, sweet Melissa. You know I know your head all too well.

The house was painful--I have memories there. Seeing something you love in disrepair, uncared for, screaming for warm bodies and voices takes a toll on a person. She was mine and I loved her. Now, no one ever will again...not without abandoning her. I told her that I had put some love in there, I prayed and I locked her doors to leave her for good, just as I left her before. Someday, perhaps, she will be found againa and I hope that she is restored and renewed and given the chance to live once more. When it came time to leave, I felt torn...my life moving in 50 directions at once. There is a life ending in Illiniois, as it should be, I suppose, and one just beginning in NYC where my heart truly belongs.

It feels eery when memories creep back in--the boy you met three summers ago who changed your life, the grandma up in age that you question the number of visits you have left with. The 'old' life.

"Cleaning up the wreakage." My life was once a wreck, alas I begin the salvage, the inventory, the appraisal of what is left---what is worth keeping and what is ready for disposal. It is bittersweet in sensation, more than anything else. So now...I return to my concrete walls and my tall buildings, my street vendors and my crowded corners feeling like home. Feeling like I never left.