San Francisco beloved...

These old feelings are surfacing again, my longing for that city who was my closest lover. When I left it I felt I had betrayed myself, but who is to say what lessons one has to learn? I dreamed of its streets for years afterward. I yearned for it so much I would get metallic tastes in my mouth and lose track of time. My fanstasies of returning would consume many a day dreaming. And every lover I took since my exodus hated my city as if it challenged them directly. I learned to keep quiet and tried to forget.

Things have been quiet for a long time. The longing had faded to a sweet memory. But today that longing returned with a full fury. It happened when I read a post about trance dancing. I was flung back to the dirty streets and the creative spaces and the uniqueness I had left behind.

There in that cold, sophisticated, foggy city lays my place. My special place. A place where every ecentric niche of my soul has a kindred. A place of tribal dancers, witches, urban shamans, artists, free thinkers, sexual mystics, eco-activists, and academics. A place of diversity and the unexpected. A place of revolution and challenge. A place that always kept me on my toes and filled me with wonder.

San Francisco, beloved, I miss you still.

M