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.
It's back.
I'm back.
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.
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