It is slightly haunting being here. With the streets and the places that automatically trigger memories of a life that really just seems like it was a completely different lifetime. It is virtually impossible not to walk through my old stomping ground, the set for a copious amount of lessons learned and ridiculous life experiences, and not be back there all over again. It’s not a bad place per se, and they’re not skeletons in my closet because I was very open then and am extremely open now, but it is just bizarre, like going back to your childhood home and realizing you’re too big for your old bed and everything seems much smaller than the last time you left it.
It’s a wonderful place, don’t get me wrong, and I love it more than many others, but I don’t love the same things, the same places that I did when I left here. The best thing is that as much as I’ve grown up and changed, so has the city. Maybe not in the places I’m familiar with, but the unfamiliar seems to fit quite well. Could I move back? Yes, but only under certain circumstances, ones that I am sticking to. And while I wondered if it would be possible to move back here and not move backwards into old habits I think this trip solidified how those old habits just aren’t so appealing anymore. Is it possible for something new to grow in somewhere of the old? Ha. If it happened in California, it can happen here.
