More Than a Moment.

Something just feels right.

It’s the feeling of relief after you take a rock out of your shoe, the perfect alignment of the wallpaper. A nostalgic hesitation as you try to remember the last name of a best friend that once was.

Phone calls with old friends feel structured and rigid, and I haven’t felt the urgency to stay in touch. I have fewer highlights to share as the best parts of my life have become the daily interactions with new friends. As I slip into a steady life of routine, I question if my life is a story worth telling, but I look down and see that I’m still holding my pen.

It’s furnishing a room one artful piece a time, the permanent creases in your shoe laces, and advent calendars. As steady as spring blooming out of winter, and the smell of your favorite candle filling the room.

It’s more than a moment.

I’ve becoming a regular at my local coffee shop, and I get to watch my neighbor’s puppy grow into her big floppy ears. I’ve learned the habits and patterns of my coworkers, and I’ve gotten used to the sound of the construction on Tejon Street. I no longer need directions to my friends’ houses and I’ve mapped out the best bike path to the gym. We have a favorite taco joint and the best view of the city is a short walk away from where I live.

This is my collection.

It’s recognizing the nuances of each puzzle piece but losing the details in the final picture. As consistent as the rising tide, and the scattering of polished sea glass on the shore.

I went to visit my family in the city where I grew up. I spent the weekend there, visiting my favorite spots with a handful of old friends. I say goodbye to my parents, whose unconditional love was quietly understood. After a 3-hour flight, I begin my trip back to my neighborhood. Listening to a playlist called “mountaintop whispers“, the train conveniently bends to present the city in full display against the midnight sky. I didn’t intend to, but with a sigh of relief I muttered, “I’m glad to be home”.

Home.

I wonder what happened in the complicated little heart of mine to feel this much love for a place I barely know.

The city where I grew up - my watchful caretaker, my nurturing comforter. I fall asleep wondering when I began falling out of love with you.