Charlotte sits there in my life as a symbolic turning point over which I can
nothing about. Every time I enter this town, my life changes in some major way
that I never saw coming, and never in a way readily identifiable as bad or good.
I seem to find that out much later.
Confused?? Me too, which is why I dread going to Charlotte.
I don't have to be in Charlotte, mind you. It just lately seems to manage to be
in the way of any where I want to go, and typically with a reason to stop there
twisting it's way into the scenario.
In the last day, I've scouted presidential birthplaces, historical battlefields
and lastly, returned to re-scout a train in a local park. The last time I was
here this train was a magical place, a part of an afternoon spent with her, the
most important her I've ever known. Now it's a crappy place, filled with idiot
masses screaming at their kids to stop doing whatever kids do, while they're
throwing their cigarette butts on the ground. Suddenly, this place no longer
seems like such a good idea. And just like that, it and everything in the area
aren't used on the rally. The bonus sites in this location won't work, and the
reason they won't work is because I don't want them to because then I'll have to
think about Charlotte. So just like that, the decision is made. On the way out
of town, I make the pilgrimage to D & D and wander over to the dessert case and
find myself ordering (of course) the chocolate-dipped macaroon. I take the first
bite and am just overwhelmed by the unpleasantness of it, the unhappiness of
this treat, and without any thought, just throw it away and leave immediately.
The bitterness seems to linger with me for weeks. I guess it's true what
they say about you can't go home again--no matter how much you want to.
Peace to you Ms. R.......I hope life finds you well and happy.
email me at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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