Life as an Extreme Sport


I wondered what it would be like, returning to Seattle after nearly 9 months gone. What would I feel when I saw the familiar city skyline that I can trace in my sleep, when I drove down roads I used to see daily, walk the paths at the University of Washington, go to the places I literally spent more time than anywhere else the past three years of my life.

When I saw the skyline, I felt the twinges of the familiar, but it didn’t call home. The mountains are beautiful, covered in snow, and I remembered how much I miss that form of beauty around me, but at the same time, I found myself missing the broad, open skyline that I first fell in love with in Reno, and found again in Albany. The waves at the waterfront lapped against the dock, and tugged at my heart and imagination, but not enough to pool any regret.

But at the same time, I discovered home in places I would have never thought to look. In a short, spiky bobbed hair cut and infectious laugh, and in blue eyes. In laugh-lined eyes circled by glasses. In tight hugs that ended too soon, tickled by scruffy beards, and the comfort of being able to relax into someone, safe and warm.

In not enough kisses, and too many tears.

Home caught me off guard, not being in a place, but being in people.

I know you’re scared that I’ll soon be over it
That’s part of it all
Part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won’t fall
It hasn’t felt like this before
It hasn’t felt like home before you
And I know it’s easy to say but it’s harder to feel
This way
And I miss you more than I should than I thought I could
Can’t get my mind off of you