Bleeding dark into the leaves.

My ex boyfriend is driving back across the same country that nine months ago he moved across to be with me. Calling and texting me every time he takes a rest break, my heart breaks a little each time, but I know that this is the right thing to do, and I do not let the tears fall until the call has ended.

The release of '100 Words', the coming full-circle of the most significant relationship of my life, and my mother playing decade old songs got me feeling very nostalgic. In these days of transition between my marital status as well as my employment status have left me quiet, saying very little, doing very little, but sitting in my bed, listening to Crash Love b-sides and thinking about my whole life.

One thread that has woven through the many eras of my life is Portland, I was born here and have lived here all my life. This city is my home, I took my first steps here, I took my first breath here, all the tears I've cried have falling on the streets of this city.

Everyone who was born in Portland knows how to get down to the river. There is a giant river that runs through the middle of downtown, and at night the city lights reflect off of it in hundreds of colors like northern lights, but we don't go where the sea wall is, where all the tourists are, the picture on all the postcards.

On opposite side of the river from downtown, on the southeast side, there is a wildlife refuge. Nothing but forest and winding paved paths that lead through it. That's the way you have to go. You walk down, you jump over some fences, you fight through some blackberries...and then you're there. On an isolated beach, with nothing but a few floating docks to service people who jet-ski during the day.

You can hear nothing but the sound of the water and the occasional fish splash. There is no light except the glow of the city on the water. You can walk for miles along the reserve, there is no one around, completely alone. I've gone down there with so many friends, we drink, we smoke, we lay down on the docks and stare up at the thousands of stars in the sky. I've done this countless times at so many different times growing up. If my heart could be described in a picture, the one above would be it. I don't know who took it, but whoever did is standing in the same place that I am describing, and it looks exactly like that.

I may have plans to move away, go to college away, in another state, maybe abroad, but when I get homesick, when I want to go somewhere and know that I am home, in a place where I am understood. I will come here.

I swear I’m almost there. This is right where we used to play.