Tuesday, June 10, 2008

“Who Says You Can’t Go Home?”

Hmm.
Besides Bon Jovi and Jen Nettles? Me.
I’ve tried.
Then again, part of the problem is I have never felt comfortable enough in any one place to call it “Home”. Though my family and I have lived many places.
In no particular order, they include: San Antonio, Texas. Chicago, Illinois. Omaha and Bellevue, Nebraska. Winnenden, Badem-Wurtemburg, Duetchland. Lawrence, Kansas. Hopatcong, New Jersey. Rapid City, South Dakota. Brandon, Florida. Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Colorado Springs, Colorado.
In fact, one could say I’ve led a nomadic lifestyle. But can you truly ever go “Home” again.
I don’t think you can. Just recently, I went back to Nebraska for one of my best friends’ wedding.
The whole time I was in Omaha and in Bellevue, the places I lived the LONGEST in my life (1980-1983 first time, 1992-1994 second, 1995-2002 third), were no longer comfortable t me. I didn’t feel like I fit anymore.
Is that because I’ve been living in Florida the past six years?
Not at all. I kind of despise it here.
Then why?
People. The things that make me miss a place are never the PLACE at all. It’s the people I knew there. I could never really stand Omaha the first time I lived there, and it was only the friends I made the second and third times that made it possible to be there at all.
Most of those people aren’t there anymore.
And oh dear god you can tell.
The place just feels different, but most of all, whenever I go there, I feel loss.
Loss of good friends, of my health, of my ability to love, and to trust, my future in a very real way, a little bit of my sanity.
I lost who I WAS there.
Now I’m just left with who I am.
Make your own judgement about who that is.
And let me know, ‘cause I’m a little lost.