Left to feel small

There are days that begin and end with feeling raw.  Heavy hearted.  Small.  

Days where my thoughts wander my years. 1989.  An angry 17 year old on a midnight bus to Toronto.  Angry at being uprooted and plunked down in Ottawa of all places.  Missing the life I knew and the friends that were in it.  My physical home at odds with the home contained in my heart.  When the Weight Comes Down up loud and in my headphones.  Living those moments that become the foundation of a life.

It is fitting to have woken up to heavy rain and wind this morning.  Days like this trigger introspection for me.  Days where I am drawn into the reminders that almost thirty years have passed since those late night bus rides.  Days when I realize that I am on the cusp of a new period of my life.

And I feel small.