I am lying awake thinking of love and stories,
knowing that tomorrow I will be on a plane
back to where all the memories started.
My mind circles through now and then,
confusing tides of wanting and leaving
that wash up in a froth on my soul.
There’s a fear and a yearning,
knowing that tomorrow I will open the door
on the first eighteen years of my life,
a hope that maybe this time will be different,
and I won’t leave having cried my heart to sleep.
But you are there and she’s there and he’s there.
They’re all there.
It’s all there –
the physical reality of what I’ve tucked back in my mind.
And soon it might not all feel like just a memory.
Like something I just have to try hard to forget about at night.
I am afraid,
knowing that I will be on a plane tomorrow,