Thursday, December 29, 2011

I'm home

Nothing much changes in this town. The buildings get painted and old signs get replaced. The leaves fall off the trees and in a few months they come back. The people are the same. The bars are the same. There are places I avoid because I know that I will see the same people I've seen for years, doing the same thing they've always been doing, with seemingly no goals or aspirations and endless glasses of beer or whiskey.
Then there's me, and I have no goals or aspirations, either.
I just don't want to be reminded.

So I'll sit at home with my dogs. And cry a little bit when I think of Georgia, and try to remember every little detail of riding the bus down Chavchavadze, because soon I won't remember much at all. I think about saying goodbye. And walking through old town laughing even though it was hard. And watching Lydia walk away from me down the stairs crying. Sitting in the front seat of the cab, watching Tbilisi flash by me for the last time--the television tower glittering and the churches glowing, like they always do. Thanking the cab driver and dragging my luggage into the airport, realizing that was probably the last Georgian I'd speak in a long, long time. And feeling incredibly lonely.

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