Yesterday I had time to kill before I picked up dinner. I decided to visit my roots and go back to what I consider HOME. Of course some other family lives there and well the front has changed but its still the only place I felt at home.
I could be incomplete darkness and knew every turn, creek, handle, space, lock, nook, smell of the house. I got rather teary eyed when I turned my street and say MY HOUSE. I can remember the telephone number we had, how it was before we added on, my closet; oh how I loved my closet. I had my first boyfriend, first accident (bicycle), bought my first car, first ghost encounter. I lived there for 14 years and babysat most of the kids in the neighborhood.
While driving down the street I felt calm as if nothing was going to happen. The trees were blowing and the air seemed cleaner. I remember how it looked back when I was a kid and all these feelings came rushing back in and it put a smile on my face. I miss hanging out in the neighborhood with everyone, riding bikes, going swimming all day long and literally have the best CHILDHOOD.
To house I miss you!
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