As she walked along Main Street of this funky little fishing village, turned artsy community, she knew that she would feel incomplete when she left it. It was just a small village, but she had visited it many times. Every time she was here, she was afraid it would be the last time. She felt like it should be the first. She felt she belonged here.
Have you ever found a place that felt like “your” place? A place where you felt perfectly at home. Like you could fit in perfectly. That’s how she felt in this village. Like she had finally found home. She didn’t know what made her feel this way. Maybe because the village was full of creative people. Eccentric people. People who had gotten tired of the ways of the outside world and had somehow found this village to escape whatever they had to escape. She liked everyone she had met here. Odd. She didn’t like many people these days. She liked the people here.
Here, in this village, she could smile again. It had been a long time since she had smiled. All her cares seemed to slip away here along with the bad memories. She didn’t think about or remember him anymore. The one who had hurt her so badly. She didn’t even think about the one she had left. It felt like a fresh start here in this small village.
She had to leave it at least one more time, even though leaving left her feeling so incomplete. She had to at least go back home and wrap up her affairs. Then, she could come back here and stay forever. She could study the ecosystem as they tried to re-establish the wetlands. She could write her novel and get this second novel placed with a publisher. She could live day-to-day and not put any value on the material stuff of life.
She had already rented a place to live here. Her new life before her was exciting. She thought he had ruined it. He had certainly tried. If she was honest, she would say that he had ruined parts of it. She wouldn’t ever feel anything again for a man. At least she could still feel for a place. This magical place.
The Write Scribe 