Making it Last

When one leaves a place, one often can't help feel that the time is full of lasts; last time you'll see a person, last time you'll have coffee at your favorite coffee shop, last time you'll get shot down by the barista at said coffee shop. . . etc. I went through this when I first left California. I say first left there because I've left there several times since. I go back to places I've been, I see people I knew, see people who knew me but who I've completely forgotten. The only thing that really does seem final is my residency. These places are no longer my home. I'll probably never be able to aford to live in California again, I don't have any cuase to live in Hot Springs, South Dakota, Drumheller is a place that I visit. You can never go home again. The place is still there, but it's not the same.