The Lone Star State

I missed Texas.  It’s odd and I wasn’t expecting this, but yes, I did miss this place.  I missed the open land, the ugly and frustrating airport, my local grocery store, my apartment, my walking trail.  Okay, well I didn’t truly miss the airport.  That might be going a bit far.  I do love airports, but this one was a bit disappointing, especially since I view it as one huge brown monstrosity that made me worry I might miss my flight.  (It’s 4.5 ridiculous miles from the north to south end, complete with a toll at each entrance).  I guess what I am trying to say is that I didn’t truly miss Texas itself, but rather what it represents to me.  Basically my freedom to explore, meet new people, and eventually find a place where I would really feel lucky to settle down.  Also, it is not Seattle, which is grossly familiar.  This next thought may strike some of you as a bit peculiar, but during my short stay this past weekend I got the feeling, deep within my soul, that the city was trying to give me a huge hug, only I would not allow it.  It’s as though my body was speaking, saying “not yet, I haven’t been gone long enough, save your embrace for later.”  I’m sure that at some point I will be in need of that particular type of reception.  I may want it so desperately that I’ll book a flight just for that sole purpose.  Who knows?  I sure don’t, but for this trip I am aware that it just didn’t feel “right.”  When my plane landed back in Dallas I actually thought to myself, “I’m home,” because this is where I am choosing to make my home at the present time.