You Can’t Go Home Again

I’ve had a lot of people comment and email saying how nice it is to see me write nothing but happy posts lately so I thought I’d balance things out with a happy and a sad post at the same time.

I’ve written about the farm I grew up on a number of times. It’s been in my family for generations. I don’t want to bore you with all the details but long story short my family needs to sell it. It sucks because it’s the one thing I always knew I could go back to. If all else failed I could always go back to the farm. It was my base, my fallback position, my home.

Tomorrow I’m going home to say goodbye.

I’ll be able to see some old friends I haven’t seen in years. Most of my classmates are still back home, most married their high-school sweethearts and most have pumped out a few litters of kids. I’ll be meeting lots of new people as well. New family members added to the pack and new kids belonging to some old friends.

They’ll be meeting someone too.

She’s coming with me.

I know right? Pretty damn cool.

She asked me when the last time I brought a woman from New York back home and I realized I haven’t brought any woman from any city home with me in…well…a decade.

I’m grateful she’s going. Rather than dwelling on the fact that I’m saying goodbye to a place a think of daily, a place that helped define who I am, I’ll be able to share it with her, show her where I used to run and play, where I used to work and where I used to tie myself up.

I’ll be able to share with her a piece of the farm I’ve never shared with anyone before and by doing so she’ll bring a piece of the farm back with her.

I’m also grateful because she knows there are parts of this trip that won’t be easy. She knows at times I’ll be a little emotional and she’s ok with that. Just having her near will make things easier.

Perhaps I’m dwelling too much on the sad part of this trip. 99% of it will be filled with fun and adventure.

Even though I’ll never be able to go back home again (unless I somehow find a few hundred-grand to buy it back), in the end, my last memories of the farm will be good ones.

7 Comments

Bitter sweet stuff … I am glad you have someone special and supportive to share the trip. Hugs

Oh, that’s hard. I live 3000 miles away from my family in PA, and we sold off our land a few years ago, but it still hurts. On the other hand, I could not have stayed there and lived honestly. Here in the SF Bay Area I can be openly bi, poly, and kinky.

I wish you the very best, and may your new roots grow deep.

big hugs. i didn’t realize you guys were leaving so soon! i would have, ahem, called you back. try me again when you’re home? and have a wonderful trip. i’ve learned from experience that a really painful trip can actually feel *good* when you have the right person there helping you through it.

*hugs*

Going through something similar at this end, so I think I know how you feel. I hope you come out of it at the other end stronger and more able to embrace your current life.

Best of luck with the weather on trip; hopefully the break in the rains lasts!

*tight hugs* I understand, too, well, how you feel. They sold my family’s ranch, which was supposed to be held in trust for me. I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.

Enjoy your trip, baby, and take lots of pictures. I wish I had.

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