I recently went back home to Texas for work, and, I have to admit I really did not want to go. The fact that it was for work made it oh so much less enjoyable, and that I had to get up at 2 in the morning to get a shuttle to the airport at 3:15 kind of made me cringe at the thought of the flight. However, as we safely arrived in the outskirts of Dallas, I had the feeling that I was in a way, coming home. I had grown up in South Texas and lived in Dallas for a while in college, and even though while I was there I had grumbled about it, yearning to leave and be in a different climate, etc, I realized that there was a kind of beauty in the roughness of the brush and mesquite trees that I had missed. Yes, missed. I admit it now. I miss Texas. The conference I was attending passed by in a blur of meetings, vendor stalls, presentations and food, all the while I felt my soul more and more drawn to the place. I knew that at some point, not sure when or why, I would go back there. 16 ...
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