dear colorado,

it's time for me to go home.

home to california.

where i come from, where i live now and where i (finally) want to be.

i've loved you so much. at times with the most painful of longing. we both know we've strung this out as long as we could have. four years is an awful long time to sustain a long distance relationship. it's time to let go completely. the tethers no longer serve us. 

you taught me so much about myself. i grew up in your canyons and went deeper than i ever thought i could sitting on your mountain tops. you pushed my every edge.  so many illusions vanished while i was in your embrace. you gave me haven, grace and refuge. for that, i'll always love you. but, i can do this for myself now.  i know that i don't need you anymore. 

i still want to be friends. really. it's not you, it's me.  i still want to visit now and again. check-in on one another. take in your beauty and your rockin' resilient snow-caped peaks. your streams and creeks. your ridiculous abundance of hummingbirds and butterflies. and your people. oh how i love your people. i'll be like john (jane?) denver and i'll sing your praises. we'll meet again around the fire and talk of poems and prayers and promises and things that we believe in. 

until then, you can find me out west. where i live. and where i want to be. 

 so much love, lisa

ps. somebody tell me why there are seagulls in the colorado sky? are they lingering in-between like i was?