Being home is such an odd experience. When I'm away, I always forget how beautiful it is here- but there's so much about this place that is haunting. So much I kind of just wish I could forget, even if it's important. I don't want it to define who I am, but when I come home, I remember all of it.
I gave a tendency to be very deeply affected by things, and I internalize these things for years- particularly violence and loss. Recently I've been able to sort some of this stuff out, but it's a process. I feel like I backtrack when I'm here. I'm also never sure if i'm challenging myself or torturing myself, because I have a penchant for both, and it's hard to discern between them sometimes.
I come back here for my family and for my friends. I'm lucky to still be very close with many of my best friends from high school, but this place feels less and less like home. Especially as everyone I love has started to move away. Home is scattered, and being home makes me feel pretty scattered too.
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