You can never go home again

Oh, where to start.  It is like trying to hop onto (or off of) a moving train, and instantly knowing every place that car has visited along the way.  I have been back  to Wisconsin from Arizona for 10 nights now, and it has been 14 nights since I spent my last night in Yuma.  Part of me wishes I could just leave all my memories in Yuma.  I have everything here that I worked so hard for, yet I am not happy.  I left a piece of my soul in Yuma– and it is not just for one person.  The kids I worked with were great.  I grew an attachment to the desert and the culture, and I just don’t feel at home here in the Midwest anymore.  Damned desert– how could I let that get to me?  Compared to that barrenness, the green I am surrounded with here is paradise.  Isn’t it?

 

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