Visiting

Visiting people. Calling people. Don't like it. Put it off as long as possible.

These aren't strangers either. Relatives. Dear friends. People who will welcome me, and love me, and I will enjoy myself, and wonder why I didn't call or visit sooner.

But now, this moment, this summer; home is where I want to be. Want to have a routine of waking, reading, writing, cleaning, and being with familiar friends, who know my story, so I don't have to explain.

Want to come to ground in my familiar spot. Afraid of being bored and uncomfortable with people I love.

I'll have a good time though. I know I will.

So I should shut up already.