Burying people you love is a hard thing to do. I was surrounded by people who love me, and still I felt alone. Hiding a secret from those you love is also a hard thing to do. But at least there is one less person that I will eventually have to tell.
I want to stop imagining the wind in my hair is salty air. I want to know that the cool of the trees comes from the Blue Ridge and not from a patch that just hasn't been cleared yet. I want to stay for the evening chats in the back yard. I want to go too. I want to come with you.
I don't want to be the secret anymore, the black sheep, the outcast.
I want to be whole, and present. I want to be with my family, in my homelands.
I need my roots to stand up straight again.
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