the south calls me home

my feet have never cross this pavement before, but they might as well have.

perhaps you would label them as confused, me as confused but i am not.

almost 14 years ago, we drove.

we drove north, and maybe a little bit east, 645 miles.

645 miles.

we might as well have crossed a border into another world, into another me.

every decision in this life has played its role in forming who i am but perhaps this was the biggest one of them all.

and as i walk down these streets, and see the strange leaves of an oddly familiar tree that i just can’t lay my finger on where i’ve seen it before, my heart thumps harder than it has before.

the words that parade through my ears are vaguely familiar.

i have heard this all before.

the smells my nose swallows are the same, the streets, the layout of the city, the houses, the deep draw of his voice, thundering up his chest and out into the world.

i blink once.

twice.

it does not disappear.

my mind feels divided and soon my body begins to feel it too.

what is this strange place with these familiar people and familiar ways?

645.

the answer comes slowly and all at once.

it drops from the sky and forces itself down my closed throat.

i almost choke it is so sudden but as it settles in my stomach, i realize i didn’t mind the taste of it at all.

645.

more minutes than i can possibly count and yet, part of me is here.

i am being called home.

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