Decorative Flower
Her Realm, Personal website and blog of Cole
Nov 25


I took a walk tonight. It wasn’t especially long, but it was longer than I intended it to be. The air was cool and clear. It felt good in my lungs even if my cheeks were cold. I walked up the hill, along sidewalks that I have walked many time. I only live about three blocks from the house we lived in when I was in high school. I haven’t lived their for eight years, and my mother has since moved, but I think I’ve avoided going up that hill for reasons other than it’s a bitch on the knees. Seriously. How did I do that for four years?

In some ways, moving so close to my previous home made me feel as though I’d returned right back where I started with nothing to show for it. I thought to myself that ten years to the day, I might have been walking some of the same steps. Wouldn’t that be something? But I also realize that I’m not exactly where I was before. While I might be in a similar location, I’m not the same person.

When I walked those sidewalks in high school, I was angry and alone, and the music I listened to reflected that. I walked as an escape, and I looked upon the world cruelly. Tonight, I had a sense of wonder as I admired the Christmas decorations, many of which just went up. I also took time to look at the architecture. Wausau’s upper east side has many large, old homes. The styles range, too. There’s many victorians, but houses that would fit in at a Lousiana plantation or Spain also exist there. I even saw one that looked inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright (edit: it was a FLW house!). I’d forgotten how pretty parts of this city are.

As I climbed, I was able to look down through the trees. It was really spectacular. I couldn’t help but think that this walk would be quite romantic with someone by my side, holding my hand.

On my walk, I stumbled across a deer who was stumbling across the road. I saw a randomly-decorated tree in an alley and I discovered and apparent passion for architecture. But most importantly, I realized that I have not made the return home unscathed or unchanged. I am absolutely better. I am older, wiser. I appreciate more, yet I retain wide-eyed wonder.

What does it mean? I can’t pretend to know, but I can acknowledge that I am content with this.

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