With all the Bucky Love going around tumblr, I feel so vindicated. It’s like a hipster “I was into Bucky before it was cool” thing, but instead of being resentful at all these new peeps getting up in your fandom, I’m all YES WELCOME I’M SO GLAD YOU MADE IT JOIN ME IN THE EXQUISITE JOY/PAIN THAT IS JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES
And really, the only people who have grounds to be Bucky Hipsters are in their eighties, and thinking I WAS INTO CAPS TEENAGE CHUM BUCKY BEFORE ANY OF THIS NEW FANGLED WINTER SOLDIER RUBBISH SONNY
I was born in Christchurch. Wellington is my home, but I always felt that Christchurch had a space saved for me, whether or not I ever came for it. It was home to so many places and people I loved, most of whom aren’t there anymore. The last time I was there was June 2012, and I saw almost nothing, just fences and orange tape. I didn’t really want to see It was enough to have to simply look at what was directly in front of me. It’s been three years now. 20 months since the second loss.
I’ll always carry both with me. But I think I can go back now. I feel I owe it to the city I loved, to the grandfather I loved, to the place he loved.
Neither the building nor the man are still there, but I can still be.