The places I've loved, I'm not interested in revisiting. Then again, the places I left, where unpleasant ghosts wander, seem to drawn me to them.
A friend's off-handed remark about visiting his former residence caused me to wonder just why is it that I go back to sad old places?
Is it the same impulse that makes you sometimes get caught in a sad memory, just sitting there in that time and feeling the moment's anger or wrong doing?
Or, is it the same dark curiosity that draws people to tragic scenes, accidents and failures?
For me, it may just be a feeling that there's unfinished business there. I think, 'If I had another chance, I could turn that experience into something positive.' Or, 'I know there's a silver lining here, somewhere.'
The places I've loved are precious and untouchable. They are kept safe, where nothing -- not a new memory, not a present-day change or disappointment -- can touch them.
Still, as I get further from the craziness and unsettledness of adolescence and childhood, places have lost their power to cause any feelings, really. That's the best feeling of all.