Should I Have Stayed

Should I have stayed there and thought of home?
Should I have ventured out into
the theaters of strangers,
slipping on their accents,
their clothing.
The trip would have been long.
Steeped in suitcases and tiny bottles
of shampoo and conditioner,
labels hanging on to inform you of the owner.
Passports, papers all inconveniently located in the
last place that you looked.
(It is always the last place.
You never look any farther
because you have already found it.)
Pacing around,
looking at
street names and
numbers,
Still trying to
figure out
where you are.
And then finding who you are.
Then to write you many years later,
and find that you are well.
The happiness in knowing
that the world moved on
as I moved away.
To see the sun differently than you do,
you have your dreams
and I have mine too.