home

It'll be hard and different, but I know that there will be more overwhelmingly wonderful moments that shake you with truth so hard and fast that it will leave you feeling cored-out, smiling and thinking: THIS, this moment right now, is what it's all about. 

So, this is growing up huh? Shoot. Didn't think it would come this fast. But I'm ready, and I know that you are too. It's about flying across the country in search of something more than this sleepy town has in store for you. About feeling completely scared shitless and innocently brave all at the same time. Sorting and shifting between what matters and what doesn't. The space between leaving and left; but still remembering what it feels like to be home.

Leaving home, I have a steady heart beat and open, clear eyes fixed on the clay which shaped me - sculpted into me my dreams of the future, giving me this innocent, blind trust in one shaky stride forward. I have one foot in the sand, and one foot through the kitchen door, clinging to that reliable "AM, I missed you" even though only twenty hours had passed since our last hello's. I have a duffel full of threads, each backward stitch pulled through the trust in your handshake. The black suitcase full of containers, some empty, awaiting the depth of late nights, spent hovering over my sheets and dreaming of the infinite space between what is now yesterday and what will become tomorrow.

Arizona, I love the souls you cradle in your cotton candy sunsets, the snapshots of crystal coated dreams in a scorching summer. Grid system cruises across this whole damned city just to see panoramic glow, fingers interlocked with junior prom and hard learned lessons. The strings of your guitar lacing my shoes, lifting me through this dark alley lined with love letters and mixed CDs that only could be written as Perfection. Arizona, I carry you in my heart.