(no subject)

[nny]

I just went out for the evening. And it was shiny and gorgeously decorated and lovely, with silly events and nice food and a happy atmosphere. And Bigger's new band were playing, and they were awfully good. While I was watching them, I started crying. Luckily, it was in that way they do in films we don't believe - neat and no face-crumpling or redness, and miraculously managing to keep makeup intact, just quietly leaking tears. 'cos I lived with Bigger for three years, and I've lived very much within walking distance this last year, and sometime during these past four years Cardiff became my home. And I didn't even notice it happening. I can't stop crying now; I don't want to leave.

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[illmantrim.livejournal.com]

Sometimes leaving is part of our love of a place. We can leave it and someday, maybe, return, but the love for it will slip inside us and foster like a song and a small seed. Someday, we return, when the time is right for us to do so. For now, we walk, we run, we slide away. And we live...

But we do remember. And we do love.