UNTITLED

[UNDECIDED] The Return

It had been forever since ive stepped foot in this place. That feeling almost lost, many years behind me taking its place. Having grew more distant than I thought possible. The stained glass leaving an assortment of colors shining brightly on the rows of pews. People chattering amonst themselves muttering away about this and that. Odd looks being shot my way constantly, but for a good reason. Some of these people hadnt seen me for years, and I wasnt as full of as much life as I was those many years ago. Sitting down in the third row from the front, I sat and listened as the priest went on and on about some scripture. I was unable to pay any attention at all. I couldnt tell if it was because of my lack of presence for years at a time, or him. He stood out, and i couldnt figure out why. Something about him was grabbing my attention, slowly eating away at my ability to focus. Watching him sit there and listen as if not a care for whats happening outside of the priests testemony. Suddenly he looks around and stands up, walking away and out the back door. It felt like no time had passed at all.We shared  a glance before he left, but nothing worthy of too much thought. I snapped out of my intense state of questioning the moment he dissapeared to the other side of the door. I had hardly even realized that the priest had finished his sermen and had begun walking into the congregation. I got up and followed his trail, not paying any mind to the people around me. As I crossed the blockage between the church and the outside world, he was no where in sight. What had happened? It was a completely new feeling, or so i thought. Was it curiosity? Was it a stroke, perhaps? Had I began daydreaming? No matter what, it made my first day back into the world of religion a complete waste, but yet refreshing to be back in the atmosphere I had longed for after my leave. Trying to get my mind off of.... him, I thought to visit my mother, we hadnt spoken physically in years and she doesnt live too far off from the church. She was the woman who raised me, so you would think shed want some part of my life. I would say my dad should be recognized as well but, well get to that later. I pulled up to the house, the same Chevrolet Chevelle parked under the carport, with an empty spot beisde it missing dads custom painted red C10. I walk up the brick steps to the front door, the gold tint on the doorknob faded away from all the years of going in and out, doing things which i thought better than staying in the hatred filled household. I knock on the door, a lump creeping its way into my throat as all the years of persistant criticism came back to me in the form of anxiety. She slowly pulls the door open, and I watched as her face quickly changes from confusion to dissapointment. I really dont know what i was expecting, but for some odd reason it wasnt that. Maybe I was just secretly hoping that years of some dumbfounded rivalry had been swept under the rug in the 2 years I had gotten away from this town. Possibly I was thinking that because of my monthly messages she had just forgotten about the way things were. We stand there staring as the tension makes the atmosphere around us thick enough to cut. She slowly regained the look of confusion and motions for me to come in. I take my shoes off at the door and walk in slowly, having not a clue about all the remodeling and rennovation that had erased years of memories. They may not have been the best but they brought me to where I am today, somewhat. It was like walking into a completely new home, yet having the same smoke scented aroma invading your nostrils with each new breath.