I know this place.
The scent that the environment gives off is familiar. The atmosphere seems aware of my presence and I thought it’s friendly. I think my trails haven’t been vanished off completely by the thin air.
It’s still in my mind that it once gave me warmth and comfort when I thought that I didn’t own anywhere to bump my body on. Or when it seemed that it’s the best place amongst others to temporarily occupy in. This was once a new place to breathe in.
I was struggling. Despite the hints of a better comfort, the engulfment by the previous tenderness was still tight. As if it was resisting in letting go, hence the adapting and adjusting that took quite a long time. It’s one thing that I was trying hard to be sensible about my presence in a new place at first, but it’s another thing when I finally didn’t need to be alerted of the distinct environment. I was already used to it.
I couldn’t recall the time when I have diverted to another comfier place and vacate this place deserted. It was instantaneous and unpredicted. It happened abruptly yet willingly. Slowly moving in. No mindful contemplation with unaccompanied back up consideration. Just a heart capacitated with faith on the intention to find a better space to snuggle in.
Although this place was once a place that I had frequently stayed, I’m not going to doubt about the possibility of my failing expectation on the comfort this place has to offer now as compared to then. I know it’s not going to be the same. But I don’t think I just want to turn away either. I have just arrived to this abandoned place that I had once convinced to welcome myself in. I think I can repeat the cycle and start over.
Because I’ve never really left.