I dedicate far too much of my agonized contemplation to my relationship with different places -- a contemplation that's not reciprocated, unless I missed something and the Boulder Daily Camera last week dedicated a column to "Greg comes back."
It used to be far worse. The first few years after I moved out to Atlanta, every trip back home prompted soul-searching, and inevitably ended with a bold proclamation -- either "I'm over Boulder" or "I need to move back tomorrow."
Now, I seem to be at some peace with the place. I'd love to move back someday, yeah, but it no longer seems a pressing issue in my life. I no longer feel an urge to put it behind me, either. It's home, but there's no reason I can't have other homes as well.
They just won't be quite as pretty.