cookies crumble and milk gets spilt
life doesn't always work out the way you would like or think it should. mine's certainly no exception. i left austin last may with the plan of visiting my family in arkansas for a month...two at the most. December is almost over now and here i sit in the town where i grew up. digesting the knowledge that i'll be here another 3 months at the least and searching for that part of me that sees the silver lining in even the darkest of clouds.
i don't wear this town/state well. it washes me out and it clings too tightly in places while hanging too loosely in others. i found an entry in a journal i started a year or three ago. the description is still perfect:
"they say you can never go home again. for some that may not be true, for me it is. the place most of my family and friends refer to as my home is a place i find confining. suffocating. a place where i don't fit. not exactly how i'd describe home."
it's hard for me to see the joy in their faces each time my stay gets extended. not because i'm not happy to be wanted but because i know how hard it will be for them when i leave. i see them clinging to the hope that their old friend will change her mind and stay. what they can't see is she's already gone.