Bids for My Heart

I seem to have developed a habit.
It appears that when I return from any sort of trip
I am a little bit in love with wherever I just left.
The places I visit seem to hold on to a little piece of my heart.
Most recently, I was flying back to Ohio
after spending a glorious couple of days alone in San Diego
and I found myself sitting at an airport wine bar
reading about post-vacation blues.
I was bummed about coming home.
What is it about a destination that is so romanticĀ as opposed to my home?

Well, home is familiar
and there is that saying
“familiarity breeds contempt”.
Destinations are foreign
and there should be a saying
“novelty breeds love”.
and it’s all exciting.
So, it makes sense that
I get swept up by the romance of these new places.
What is it about romance that is so alluring as opposed to my reality?

But it’s also interesting returning from places
I used to call home because
they are familiar to some degree.
Those places seem to hold on to pieces of my heart too.
When I lived in Florida,
I couldn’t wait to get out.
Now that I live outside of Florida,
I can’t wait to get back.
What is it about nostalgia that is so beguiling as opposed to the present?

In thinking about where I want to make my home,
I get overwhelmed.
I hear “home is where the heart is”
but there are some strong bids vying for my heart
and all of them already have pieces of it in their hands.
What is it about me that is so indecisive as opposed to sure?

Do I just fall in love too easily?
Will I ever be able to “settle down”?
Too big of questions to tackle before a second cup of coffee.
Hold please.

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