I went home this weekend and for the first time in a really really long time I wasn't ready to leave. Not that I ever jump for joy at the sight of N-IH35, but I usually can tell when it's time for me to come back to my little corner of the world. This time there was a certain sense of sadness, if you will. I don't even know how to describe it. I wanted to stay with my family. I wanted to take my family with me. I knew I was coming back to a city I love, but my mom's kitchen table (and awesome Keurig) wouldn't be there waiting for me to wake up on Sunday morning. It's been almost 10 years since I've lived in San Antonio and everything I've ever had a real connection with there is completely different. My high school, my parents homes, my sisters homes, the church I grew up in - everything. Even the streets we used to fly down when we were wreckless teens have been repaved and the undeveloped areas where we used to stargaze are now busy strip malls. It's amazing, and not in the feel-good kind of way. Every corner looks like every other corner, and I'm ashamed to say that I'd probably get terribly lost if I tried to drive to my Grand's house. As I drove away from the city that raised me I felt an overwhelming sense of nostalia, and had I allowed myself to do so, I would have cried.
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Stay Gold.
I thought about getting a tattoo. After a couple of days I decided I should probably let that simmer. I told my sweet friend I'd probably just paint it instead. His advice, "Definitely start with paint and see where it takes you..." Not a bad idea.
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As I left Hyatt Lost Pines today it was impossible not to stare at the sky on the way back to Austin. All I could think of was, "Damn you Tejas, how's a girl ever supposed to get out of here when you keep painting your sky so pretty?" Not that I'm planning on leaving, but I wouldn't say I'm necessarily planning on staying.
Le sigh.
