It's been dormant so long, yearning, longing, scratching at the back of my skull...among the other rubble, waiting, calculating, knowing time was on its side.
I should have known, even though I doubted it at times, really, doubting myself.
But it's all good, it's back, like the scratch, scratch of pen on paper, it is unavoidable.
Its good. It's right. I open, take it in and accept it back where it belongs.
It rings the memories of how I got here, who helped me, who believed in me, who pushed me, who gave me "permission". The way I doggedly pursued it,swearing never to leave it. Remembering the way I breathed it everyday,and other days when it "breathed" me, how I obsessed over it, how I carried it with me wherever I went, wearing it like a favorite shirt.
You can never truly leave, or lose, what is a part of you.