Welcome back

Maybe it's just the way it smells in the south, like confederate jasmines and damp summer air, maybe that's why it feels so comfortable. I've been here for a week now and I've already grilled outside twice, threw a baseball in the backyard, spent an evening on a porch swing drinking jameson, and watched a game of beer pong in a party dome. This is the life that I know and despite the labels of grief I'm sure I will sustain, it's still the best time a girl can ask for. Tallahassee hasn't changed much. There's a new oyster bar where the soul food place was. My first night back at Cypress I drank dollar PBRs with the kitchen and watched as those braver than I slurped down Apalachicola half shells doused in lemon wedges and tabasco. I made a pyramid out of the empty beer cans and listened as a new crew of misfits talked shop under hanging paper lights. Maybe this is as good as it gets. For the first time in my life I embraced my accent and the road of southern heritage that took me from birth to adulthood. It's going to rise again and I'll be there to cheer it on.