yes, I was in China

In about 5 days, I will have been home from the far east for two months.
While time will slowly and surely wash away the majority of my tactile memories of the life I led there, I am staving off the inevitable for as long as possible. Each day I take a few minutes and close my eyes to really remember where I was, and what I was doing. The feeling of each kid's hand in mine, their little voices, the plastic grass that got stuck in my shoes. The taste of the noodles, and pancakes, and flatbread, and milk tea. The smell of barbecue, roasted chestnuts, and stinky tofu. Stories told, songs sung, lips kissed, laughter shared. These will all be gone eventually, but I am grasping at each moment they flash themselves into my consciousness.
Perhaps the most difficult part of my return is that nobody can truly know what I have returned from. All that has happened on this side of my world is the passage of time. Its no news how static Tucson is, and it became glaringly obvious how much so upon my return. Things are exactly the same. Exactly. And while I have returned an entirely different person, with new knowledge and friends, and outlooks, people expect me to be a carbon copy of my former self. And that just isn't the case. Nobody wants to hear my stories, or see my pictures, they just want me to get caught up on who fucked who and why that is important. And thats ok, because my experiences are better left that way. Untouched by the judgmental and cynical eyes that fill this town. Its just a sad truth that the people that know me best, and knew me at my best, are a world away.
I had never been happier than I was there. And to come back to such stark loneliness, although expected, is still a lot to handle.
Things will get better with time, I'm sure. But for now my heart is low and my soul is cold.