I've been noticing things and I have to wonder why I'm having so much trouble accepting it all.
I feel like I'm living in a war zone. There are people shooting at each other and mines litter the ground. Yet it is all familiar territory to me. I know every inch of it...it is my war zone, I'm used to living here. And yet I could be living in a place free of all that in a town with tree lined cobblestone roads. Where the people are friendly and their gardens are beautiful. As peaceful as it would be to live there, it is unfamiliar to me. I would have to learn my way around again, and get to know all the people.
So why am I trying to convince myself that living where I am now is good? Its all I know and from what I can tell, it wasn't always in its constant state of upheaval. At one point the town was deserted. I tried to shut everything out and not feel anything at all. Yet all my fortifications had to come down at some point and now this violence persists. I could leave the war zone and yet I find myself unable to part with it.
Am I waiting for the fighting to die down? I don't know if it will but for some reason I cling desperately to the hope that I can accept the war torn town in which I live.
I often find myself jealous of people who can live at peace within the walls of their hometown.
But doesn't my unwillingness to depart from my town mean somehow that maybe I don't belong in the place of peace, for if I did I would surely want to go.
But that would mean starting a new life in a new place and perhaps I lack the courage to leave.
