Familiar sounds and smells always seared into my brain the same way that reading hand-written notes from friends and old lovers felt. I really missed the soft wind carrying the subtle salts of the bay whisking through my nostrils and tickling the whites of my eyes. Nothing beats hopping off a crowded Richmond line train at 6:00 PM.
But things aren't quite the same. The ground feels strange. Steps that I once took everyday seem alien. I'm discovering cracks and bumps and hills I never knew were there. So here I am - stumbling, dancing with two left feet learning to walk again. But oddly enough - I feel like running.
Though, I'm not sure if I'm running away from things past or running towards a silent unknown, so I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other without looking both ways.