“It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed is you.” -F.Scott Fitzgerald
I stood at Tumamoc and looked out over the city. Told it goodbye. You have no hold over me any more. You are not my city. I spent most of my life missing you, idolizing you, loving you from afar, and now I feel no connection.
For once, I didn’t stand around thinking, “if only.” I stood around thinking, “finally.”
I don’t belong here. This is not my place.
And it feels so good. Like freedom. I will pursue what I want. What I want is not everything. What is joy? Better than love.
Smiling and saying goodbye. You are not what you were. I am not how I thought. Being free and going back to Wisconsin with open arms. Is this how you love with open hands? This is how I feel. Our love is not the same.