I'm back in the familiar... but the place I've known only as an in-between, a temporary space I occupy for holiday breaks and summers. A place I love and consider home in so many ways, but with so few memories.
And I miss Belgium.
A sudden flash, the image of a sun-filled living room, the feel of fresh air moving around me from the open door, the smell of flowers on our table.
A moment I laugh to myself, silently or perhaps out loud, and take a breath to say "this one time, in Belgium..." and stop myself, becuase I know the people who would understand are hours, or perhaps continents, away.
A receipt found in a pocket or purse, from Carrefour or the GB, that makes me think, "Oh, Boitsfort."
A run on the roadside, or the black-tar paths, that makes me long for the packed dirt, trees, and shade of the Foret de Soignes.
A realization that that stage of my life is over.... I know it was always meant to end, but really, that doesn't mean I miss it any less.
