it's strange how we move on in life. it certainly isn't an exact science, but it does happen in similar ways for everyone. two years ago i was torn in two thinking of the upcoming move; i might have done anything to have my life freeze in place so that i might keep on living the perfect world i had created for myself.

now i can't wait to leave this town. each visit is forced upon me. all the old spots (whatever they might have been used for) are just that: old. overused. tired.

it hurts a little bit. i long for the days when plans would start to fall together for the night and days were spent hiding from the heat down at the river, hopelessly sunscreening and sunscreening over and over again. i don't know why; sunburns are just a way of life. but there was an attempt, and i will tell the dermatologist that cuts the skin cancer out of my shoulder, nose and top of my ears that an effort was made. they were strainingly happy times.

and now, even as the old places are relived and the days acted out in the same manner, it is impossible to pretend that everything is exactly the same.

and i don't want to.

i can't wait to go back down south.