On Saturday I had a very strange experience; a sudden bout of nostalgia caught me as I came back from the supermarket for some last-minute supplies (most supermarkets over here are closed on Sundays, it wasn't too long ago they weren't allowed to be open on that day, or after six PM on weekdays).
I didn't think I was emotionally attached to this neighbourhood, I still don't, it must have been the result of an innate fear for the unknown rather than affection for this place. The neighbourhood was just somewhere for the house, my home, to stand. I smiled at familiar faces, even made small-talk, but I never felt like part of it.
Of course the odds are that's just because of how I tick and how I perceive the world. I'm certainly not fleeing the place I know to some completely unknown town (to me, obviously) with any romantic motion of finding everything better there. It won't be and it'll even take time to get back to the level of smiles and ones on the streets that I'm used to now.
As I was preparing to leave with my groceries, grabbing some change for the homeless newspaper seller, my eyes started to fog over.
I tipped the guy with the homeless newspaper roughly 10 dollars and walked home in a haze.