It’s like I never left.
This library feels the same as it always has.
The books line up, like they always did.
The chairs, used and unused, have the same discomfort.
I have many memories here. Good and bad.
These walls have held all these moments for me.
And a thousand more.
Is it any wonder that it is the place I go back to, the place I feel most comfortable?
For while it was never my home,
It was always my retreat.