Discomfort That I Would Mistake For Lust

Spent a day in Berry over the weekend, which is always a nice break from the pace of the city. The Girl and I always end up discussing what our lives would look like if we lived there. It’s a speed of life that, given my Appalachian upbringing, I could fall into rather easily (like a sofa molded to my body by years of use) but the city has seduced me. I would forever hear her siren song in the distance, creating in me a discomfort that I would mistake for lust. No, I dare not leave her; dare not generate a longing that only an admission of requital would subdue.