FLIGHT

Location

 

It’s like a comet hitting your hometown football field, but it makes you miss it for the first time. 

It’s like driving the wrong way down a one way with a screaming cocktail party in the backseat.

It’s like seeing God in Bonneville headlights cresting the hill on an Iowa highway.

It’s like warm rain between your toes, even though the gravel is slicing you, mixing with your homebody blood unabashedly. 

It’s like home is where your heart is, even though the surgeons misplaced it during surgery and now you’re all having a good laugh about it. 

 

It’s a little something similar to an “I love you so much” to a team that grew you, 

 

or a friend that you grew, 

 

or a lover you meet just a few months too late, but maybe right on time. 

 

It’s the feeling of remembering all these tiny slivers as you pluck them with your father’s tweezers, only to save them for a rainy day. 

 

It’s voluntary abduction, it’s visceral and beautiful. 

 

Welcome; you’re going to do just fine. 

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