Confessions : On Coming Home + On Leaving
To where my senses first recognized the faint shapes, colors, textures and scents of things to come.
To where I found my first playground…
To where I first discovered that those that begin are born with an end. To where I became so much than just myself, where I turned the first pages of my love & trust that are now and forever will be the first and most unforgettable of betrayals.
To where I have lived my life. To where I am going to live my life. And who knows, it ends there too…
To where I ran away from because of so much wars, and yet there is so much peace in its narrow streets.
To where, well, whatever, wherever, whenever.
I am afraid.
But Mother, I am coming home.
. . . .
In life, some things only happen once, some do not happen at all.
May I meet you again, discover you again, all over again.
Goodbye.
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