The Return

As I enter Baltimore once again,
A question comes to mind.
What is calling me back?
In the final hour of the drive,
I tried calling my ex,
Only to find an empty line on the other side.
A reminder
That the past is no longer there to comfort me.
That the decisions I make from here
Must be my own.
And whatever price comes with them
Is mine to pay.
No one to blame,
No one to turn to with what if,
Should my own instincts lead me astray.
There is something about a lonely road,
The absence of someone to talk to,
That leaves you alone with your thoughts.
Sometimes I have to remind myself
To be silent.
For only in that silence
Can I begin to hear
What I have spent so much time drowning out.

As time passes,
The memories of the place I once called home
Will slowly begin to fade.
And somewhere within me
Remains the fear
That I may never make it back.

Yet there is something oddly comforting
About returning to a world
I once refused to come back to.

The road that brought me here
Has come to an end.
The vacation is over.

I have returned to a familiar place,
But not to a familiar life.
There is an odd relief.
As though everything
Is where it is supposed to be.
Like an old, worn pair of boots
With new soles,
Ready to be worn again.
I am starting anew
In a place I know too well.

I still have to keep moving.
But for now,
I just need a place to rest my head.
A place to be still,
To figure out what comes next.