It is weird to observe new beginnings without actually being part of it. Like when A+E first got together, for example.

But today the new interns started, and the heady mix of excitement and apprehension was intoxicating. I wish them all well. The next three (or so) years are going to be an adventure.

For a while, I felt like I was soaring, blown upwards by paroxysmal blasts of wind, wanting to do impossible things, forever chasing sunlight. But weariness creeps in bit by bit. In a lot of ways, I know that Bn is right, that my life is still ahead of me, that it’s too early to settle down and take root.

Even though the past four, eight, twelve years are finally catching up to me, and I look at the cold hard road behind me, and I realize that there’s no going back at all.

A part of me yearns achingly to claim this place for my own, to make that decision that this is enough.

That I am home.

A part of me recognizes that no place will ever be home, so long as my heart is sundered into sharp, jagged fragments. Just as I belong to no land, to no country, so too can no place lay claim over me. My soul lies fallow. What’s left of my heart is cold and still.

Maybe our hearts always know our destinies. As much as I’ve clawed, kicked, and railed against Fate, it has moved on inexorably, leaving me floundering in its wake, gasping for air and only swallowing sea water.

It’s been a long, long time since I remember knowing what I wanted. It may still be a long, long time to go.

It’s never gonna be that simple.