Twinge

I never thought I'd see the day.

Heather lent me her car for the weekend, while she went home for Thanksgiving. As Robin and I got into the car for one of our nighttime forays, I realized that I couldn't see a damn thing out the back window. As I poked at the dashboard, looking for the rear window defrost, I felt a wave of homesickness lapping at the shores of my consciousness. It hadn't occured to me coming out that it'd get cold enough here to need to defrost a window - it hadn't occured to me that I'd be driving at all. Despite the abominable automatic transmission, and the quite tangible difference in the feel of the roads, it was enough like being home that I began to miss the place. It's odd - when I was there, I wanted nothing more than to get out, to live somewhere else for a while. I never knew how much it felt like home until I got the chance to not live there. But now that, in a little under three weeks, I'll be returning to the thin air of Colorado, I know just how much it influenced my upbringing.

I never had a definition for myself when I was at home, but now, so much is becoming clear.

I am from Colorado.
I am a Mudder.
I am an Eastie.

I am.

click