2.12.18 | part ii

I spent a little too much time south and I was feeling really burnt out, a different kind of tired than the one that glows in the snow here at home.
I clicked my heels, once, twice, maybe three times, and I ended up back here, staring at my reflection in the fog settling across a stretch of land and a very tall building looming in the distance.
The cobblestone streets welcomed my feet, and for a second, I regret having not explored the array of options.
Nine choices, I could've chosen anywhere.
I could be two hours away in a city belonging to my dreams, I could be five and a half in a new realm, maybe if I tried harder, I could be farther in a location I never deemed possible.
Instead, I'm here - close, but not too close, yet not far enough away for my soul that yearns to wander.
Still, this is home.
Or so, I thought.
I thought making a home out of this place would be easier for those I love to share it with - they could pop in, she said she would come every weekend to see me, he says he's happy I chose to call this place my own.
I made this decision for all the wrong reasons - so many of the wrong reasons.
I made it for myself and wrongly chose to include everyone else as a footnote.
I'm willing to drive the distance, to spread the mileage, to meet up with everyone I love, no matter what. I'd cross every river in the Underworld, I'd walk in and out and never look back as long as it meant I could keep the ones I love.
It isn't about the distance though, as much as it may seem like it, that's really not it.
It's about the amount of love I have that is never requited; the most terrible and incurable thing - my heart that continues to beat for others even as it is breaking.