Yesterday, I took lunch and went for a light jog/walk around the old neighborhood I used to live by. It was a beautiful spring day. Like the ones I remember when I lived there. It was strange to be back in the same place and remember the version of me that when up the hill and down the hill so many times. Giddy up the hill, giddy down the hill. Crying up the hill, crying down the hill. Numb up, numb down. Angry. Grieving. Content. Up and down.
I felt a sense of satisfaction and unease. So I think I’ll go back. Then, I think it’s not a good idea. Is there something to be conquered in remembering, in going over territory I’ve been over a hundred times or am I in danger of remembering too much and reverting back to that weaker person? Fuck yes. Or. Fuck. Yes.
For now I think I’ll try to think nothing of it.
Ramblings of a Medicated Lady: Words of Woe by Loria Taylor 
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March 19, 2009 at 10:31 am
poeticgrin
Well, there are good and bad things about circling through your past. For one, you see how far you’ve come. But then again, you see how far you’ve fallen sometimes, too.
And sometimes you stay in that same circle so long you walk yourself into a rut.
Nothing wrong with walking through a new neighborhood.
March 19, 2009 at 11:50 am
medicatedlady
FYI, the my new neighborhood was recently dubbed “Death Valley” by a local newspaper.
March 19, 2009 at 11:52 am
Patrice
I often drive past a little diner where we used to meet. If I come upon it unprepared, the knife still twists. But when I know I’m about to see it, I hold up my pride and defend myself.