“You can never go Home again.”
Sometimes places where we plant our heart are lost to us. We plant our feet, hang our hats, and embed our souls in a place. Then sometimes we have to walk away and let it go. But we never do let go completely. Pieces of us remain, parts of our heart or soul may be buried there, and all we take with us are the memories. Yet those buried hearts still beat. And pump that which connected us to those places through our veins. We still carry them with us.
This is the place where part of my heart still lies. Buried now. But still beats quietly. And sometimes I find myself back there in spirit. If not in person. Just like other places before this, and those places that have yet to receive my beating heart. Funny how we scatter ourselves and leave pieces behind.