Familiar

I miss the familiar. The knowing where I’m going without the GPS. The security of your block. The knowing and being known. The street, the trees, the park that know me. The familiar faces and running into people I know. It took me a long time to familiarize myself with such a vast place, but I did. Then I let it go. Familiar smiles not hidden behind cloth. Familiar hugs. Breathing your air. I miss that. Yet in constant comfort and familiarity one cannot grow. One cannot become something new. One cannot spread her wings and fly. Familiar is grounding, but if you want to fly you must leave the ground.