If you close your eyes, does it feel like you've been here before?

Some days, some weeks, Ukraine feels closer.

This week, it has felt very close.

Part of it is the cold.
There is something about walking
down cold winter streets
in the morning that instantly
sends me back to
those grey streets of Kharkov.
The way the cold air hits my lungs
the way snow-damp city streets smell
the way the cold bites into my fingerbones.

Part of it is speaking Russian
with new friends
with a darling refugee boy from Donetsk
who knows the math
but can't understand the story problems
and who puts up with me
trying to explain elementary physics to him
in Russian
but who loves me enough
to give me one of his Pokemon cards.
(If that's not true love,
I don't know what is.)

Part of it is seeing dear loved ones
loved sisters
from my mission
and just basking in their presence
in their goodness
in their strength
in their love.
People who loved me
before I became who I was today.
People who loved me
as I struggled and wept
and as I learned about
what it meant to love.

For all of these reasons
and more
Ukraine
sits close
to my heart
tonight.