Arcadia

5

I can't tell you if ghosts are real, or of what lies beyond death, but I've heard that spirits come to visit places hallowed by love, and when I'm dead, that is one place I will always want to come back to.

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It's weird how places have their stories as well, isn't it? Or maybe it's just you. The story is just your memories playing games with you.
The most familiar of places seem foreign when you go there with different people, mainly because you could never imagine them there. Because yours was a friendship that started from roadside tea-stalls and by-way inns, and you feel it would seem out-of-place at KFC's. You are a different person now. That isn't your place now, not anymore.
You sit in a corner and talk about the hypocrisy of institutionalised religion, but your eyes drift over to where you had your first kiss, where you'd shared secrets and pondered life over chicken nuggets and mint krushers, where you'd waved your goodbyes on farewell day, and planned a reunion in five years which you knew would never happen anyway.
It seems weird coming here with people who hadn't known you then, who only see what you want them to see. But you love them, nonetheless, and you want them to stay. You love them, and it's the love of newfound things, and no matter how out-of-place it seems, it makes you love them more.
It's a very strange place, really. Full of contradictions, but you learn to hide the real admist all the fake. You look around to realise how how much you've changed. And no matter how much you complain about it being posh, it's still a place hallowed by love, and you know you'll always come back.