San Francisco, Day 5.

The weather begins to turn a bit, drifting back down through the eighties to rest somewhere in the seventies. The fog approaches. This rare moment of actual summer in San Francisco won't last.

It's a good day. Lunch with one friend, a person I should have been closer to when I lived here, and dinner with a couple who I truly miss. In between there's a nap, or two, a few pictures, maybe a hundred, and the gym. It's especially comforting to use a gym that's so familiar, but I know I'll have that soon enough at my new gym.

As my trip winds down I feel a bit sad that I can't, physically can't spend as much time with all my true friends here as I'd like. I realize there's more people here who mean a lot to me than I'd previously thought. I feel a tug. I feel forces pulling at me as if they could keep me here, and I feel the tug that I almost wish I could stay.

Concurrent to that, I feel opposing forces, pulling me home. The time is coming soon for me to leave this dreamland again, and when it does, I'll be ready. It would be nice, if possible, to spend time in both places, but it isn't possible and I know what my choice will be. I know where I belong.