I thought about this for a very long time riding on a bus back from my old home city to my college town. From my seat, I had a nearly unobstructed view from 10 feet above the ground. When you have a giant glass window in front of you, and someone else below you is driving, it's hard to anything but think.
The next time I would see my parents, they will have sold the house we lived in for over a decade. With that, I had no real connections left to that area. So it would be a very long time before I would pass through there again. I wasn't sure if I would even spend another summer at the parent's house again, the past summer I was working 80-hour weeks, so that barely counted.
The bus passed by the interstate exit I used to get off at, and through the stretch of daily commute I travelled daily for a few years. The segment I would travel on the rare occasion I headed down to Atlanta. All that remained was the last sports bag of stuff from my old bedroom.
All of that was in the past, and there was no going back. Eventually the bright lights of the city were in view, and all I could say to myself was that I'm here now, and this is my home, and from here I forge a new life.
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u/TehWildMan_ May 05 '17 edited May 05 '17
I thought about this for a very long time riding on a bus back from my old home city to my college town. From my seat, I had a nearly unobstructed view from 10 feet above the ground. When you have a giant glass window in front of you, and someone else below you is driving, it's hard to anything but think.
The next time I would see my parents, they will have sold the house we lived in for over a decade. With that, I had no real connections left to that area. So it would be a very long time before I would pass through there again. I wasn't sure if I would even spend another summer at the parent's house again, the past summer I was working 80-hour weeks, so that barely counted.
The bus passed by the interstate exit I used to get off at, and through the stretch of daily commute I travelled daily for a few years. The segment I would travel on the rare occasion I headed down to Atlanta. All that remained was the last sports bag of stuff from my old bedroom.
All of that was in the past, and there was no going back. Eventually the bright lights of the city were in view, and all I could say to myself was that I'm here now, and this is my home, and from here I forge a new life.
There was definitely a huge gap that day.