No matter what, you land with a thud. A dull hard whump that no one can really hear but yourself. And where you are now, there are people there, and where you are coming from, there are people there too. So where are you? Half way here, half way there, you are in the in between space. You are on an island.

I was not sorry to leave, I am not sorry to be home. Still, it was not easy to leave, nor is it exactly easy to be home. In the time that it takes to adjust to jet lag, I have re-adjusted to a version of my old life, which has magically become my new life. The place that I left, the year that I finished, the people who have slid out of my life as easily as they slid in, all of it is as foggy as a dream now, one that I thought I would be able to describe, only every time that I try, I realize that I don’t want to.