It's hard when I describe things now, because I don't know what to call that place I lived for 29 years. It never, ever truly felt like home. I hated my high school years. Despised the below average education and the unlikable cliques. I met some good people along the way, but few and far between. I spent most of high school yearning to return to Brooklyn. My trips back, even when the access was so very simple, were non-existent.
The happiest I ever was, was working from 19-21. Not a care in the world, limited responsibility and finally embracing the fact that I had a wonderful family. I made lots of mistakes, but I grew a lot then too. Then the years of bouncing around from job to job and even then, I longed to be anywhere else. None of my relationships made me feel like this was my home and looking back, I realize now how large a part it played in my demoralized mind.
So now I sit, well over 200 miles away. I find myself stuttering when I speak to the locals, describing a place I lived. Home? I don't know. My heart was never there; ever. Is this home? Time will tell, but it doesn't feel like it and I don't know if any place ever will.
The happiest I ever was, was working from 19-21. Not a care in the world, limited responsibility and finally embracing the fact that I had a wonderful family. I made lots of mistakes, but I grew a lot then too. Then the years of bouncing around from job to job and even then, I longed to be anywhere else. None of my relationships made me feel like this was my home and looking back, I realize now how large a part it played in my demoralized mind.
So now I sit, well over 200 miles away. I find myself stuttering when I speak to the locals, describing a place I lived. Home? I don't know. My heart was never there; ever. Is this home? Time will tell, but it doesn't feel like it and I don't know if any place ever will.
Comments
Post a Comment