Everything I've Never Said (except that its a blog)

  You never miss the picture, only the moving parts, for the picture is logged into your head in perpetuity, for all time to come. It is these moving parts that trinkle into crevices- crevices that hold everything you thought you didn’t want but ended up needing.   In a different city from the one I have lived my entire life in, I do not miss the big picture, I miss the moving parts. I do not miss family or friends, I miss the walk home, the raging sun, the smoke laden air. It is crazy I know, but it was home. The familiar pavements were home, the laughing strangers in the park at 8:30 pm were home, the tender windchimes on the ground floor apartment were home, it was their home, and my home too.   You leave a place, and you leave behind familiarity, comfort, of knowing where the roads are, and what the blind turn up right leads to. You leave home and you leave the indents in your pillow, the leaking tap, the dying trees in the 45 degree heat.   The way I...