a last trip home

I find myself for the first time in sixth months back in my boyhood home in Virginia. I've always loved the Piedmont of Virginia and it'll always be my home but coming back here this week I've felt like I'm saying goodbye to the home I grew up in. With every single trip I make to a familiar site I know that it will not ever really be coming back as much as visiting. I am burning my bridges with Virginia and learning to leave behind all my memories in preparation. It's hard accepting that I've left and that now I live in other places. There was a certain permanence to my move when I left my bags in Chicago before returning home only with a solitary duffel bag. This time my journey back to Virginia was not so much a homecoming as it was a vacation from life in Chicago. In the next year I will not live in one location for more than three months at a time and I will at last accept that my wandering feet have said goodbye to Virginia. From now on when I return to Warrenton, Virginia it is only a fleeting interruption from my travels because I have decided I cannot ever move back to home. There is too much of the world to see for me to spend much more time in this little corner I know so well.