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comin’ home

Word-doodle of the day

I am always coming home. Comin’ Home is a great tune by City and Color. If you want to understand me or anything I have ever done, you have to understand that I am always comin’ home. Even when I am leaving, really, I am already on the journey home.

I’ve seen a palace in London, I’ve seen a castle in Wales, but I’d rather wake-up beside you and breathe that old familiar smell.

That is the essence of the song and that is the essence of my life. I have driven across North America, hitchhiked across Britain, ridden trains and buses all-over Korea, traveled across mountain ranges weekly in Japan, but always the journey has ended-up being a woman that entangled my heart and took me places I never thought I would go.

That is the problem with being a Don Quixote in love: you just keep on questing. To be honest, in all my goings and returnings, I have never made it home. As the vehicle carries me back through the familiar swell of the fields in autumn, I stare out the window of the car watching 109 become Highway 9 become Grey Road 10, the backdoor to Hanover. I am happy to see these sights and yet it is always bitter sweet. As I get home, I know that I will be going again.

My son asked me why I decided to live here and the answer I gave him was not completely true. I told him it was because there was a job, which is partly true. It is also partly true that it is safe here (as safe as it is anywhere) and I wanted to nest my children somewhere. He wants to live in the city (I told him that in three years I will move him to any city on Earth if he graduates). I smile. I remember the same drives that took me all-over the province in search of adventure at his age.

The thing about coming home, I would like to tell him, is that it means I will soon be going again. I may be at pause now. I may walk through the travel section of the bookstore with gaze fixed straight ahead, but he does not know that I am a vagabond at best. My time here is limited to the duration of this song. My daughter comes of age in nine years and I will be on my way.

I know that we’re takin’ chances, you told me life was a risk, but I just have one last question… will it be my heart or will it be his?

I have left every woman that I have ever loved. There are a few that I would return to, but no woman should wait for a man that just keeps on going. There are two women that I have longed for on alternate nights and they are long married and it would not be fair to return to them. And, so the journey….

I am still comin’ home.

Published inword-doodle

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