Almost home

There are some words whose meaning stretches far beyond the intended definition; such words provoke emotions and touch raw nerves that somehow seemed rather sclerosed on the surface but remained just as tender below. Some words are almost causalgic; they short circuit their regular meanings and take on new ones, opening the floodgates to memories that don't seem to fade with time - each time you polish away the dirt the memory seems to reflect your inner thoughts more vividly than ever before.

'Almost' is one of those words. When you 'almost' made the grade, 'almost' finished the task, 'almost' stopped the bullet. Almost - but not quite. Just not quite there. Never quite enough.

'Home' is another one that weighs on the mind heavily. Life is an adventure but home is where the heart is. Sometimes 'home' and 'the past' seem to get confused with each other, especially with the passage of time. I would give a king's ransom (if I had one to give) just to be able to re-live that once again. To sit cross-legged on a parquet wood floor gazing at the thunderclouds pouring heavy drops of rain as the afternoon wind blows. To smell the smell of home once again. The mere thought sends a tingle of ectopic beats slithering through me. Thing is - airline tickets aside - I don't have to pay for the privilege; somehow I'm paying to stay away. Is five years really such a long time? The clouded mind plays cruel tricks but it is no trick to be almost - but not quite - home.