Standing on the edge of a glacier on the top of the world, staring at the cold sea below, after seeing the falls in Venezuela, after touching fish with my bare hands in the clear seas of the Pacific Islands, after dancing under the flashing lights of a technologically marvelous Japanese night club in a futuristic city on an island, after kissing an amazing Russian girl in Prague under a white sun, after sleeping on the warm earth in Kenya, after staring at Londoners from a loft belonging to a starting striker on a British soccer team, I cried. Not tears of joy, nor tears of sadness, nor exhaustion... But of incomprehension. The vastness of this world, the beauty in everything. And below me, the simplicity of the cold sea, the white glare from the frozen ocean, the silence of only my breath. Away from the Japanese clubs, the Russian beauties, the loud London honking cars, the whoops from the Kenyans, the crashing of the Angel Falls...
It was the silence that may me cry...and in all this beauty I felt that for once I missed my home in Los Angeles. I had never considered it home...but I longed to lay at my pool with a drink and watch the sunset over the hills. I missed 'George' ranting about nothing and the incessant calls from my Agent and the complications of developing a 'love' slowly in a fast paced city. I missed the life I had carved out...and in running away, I had created something in my heart that had not been there for a long time...a feeling of 'Home'....
I am finally home...and the smog never smelled so sweet.
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