The air I breathe

I have my chillout playlist on as I sit comfortably in the Sky Harbor Airport. Today I packed up all my things and put the mini cooper on the back of a truck. It is official, I am heading home. Home is such a groggy term for me lately and this situation only serves to expound upon that. It seems like a few days ago I first moved out here. Very few realized why I took the slot here for a quick move and in search of true honesty I am going to type it up.

I pushed for the move to AZ for a few months to get out of the small Alabama town where the memories hid. The house, despite me living alone there, was filled with memories of a past time I longed to forget. It wasn’t a painful memory that put me on the airplane that day, but rather the constant memory. In my life I have such a horrible habit of running away from situations that force me to admit weakness. Waking up in the morning directly following my Sign of the Cross is the mirror review. I do my best to puff my chest up high and put on the battle armor for the day. I relish the opportunity to display my manliness to the world abound. Admitting that there is a morning that I awaken and am scared to look in the mirror showcases the fact I fake the relishing.

Today I awoke from a bed in AZ, tonight I will lay myself upon a pillow in AL. While the flight is nothing new, the mentality I now posses in my head is totally different. I have learned that memories are just like the air we breathe, no matter how much air you suck in, air will always be here. To expound on that slightly, memories will always surround you. There will be times as you walk down the road and take a breathe that reminds you of a past time. What I learned over the past few months is that holding your breathe only forces you to take a deeper breathe when you release. Memories are nothing to hide from. Instead of forcing myself to run from the time I had so desired to forget I am now going to breathe it in. I have so much air to breathe…so much to learn…

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