Being “home” this time has helped in a way I didn’t imagine.  It made me miss my real home.  The one where I now live, rather than the one where I used to live.  I might not have everything like I want it at home, such as a niche, but it’s my home.  It’s where my life is.  And this, this is not where my life is anymore.

I’m going back a day early, tomorrow.  Partially it is because I have gotten ZERO homework done (yikes!) and partially it is because I miss it.  I don’t have a place here anymore, and I’d rather be where I at least sort of have a place.

I like my friends here, don’t get me wrong.  But for the most part, they are friends that are my friends when I come to visit and not really otherwise.  That is not a bad thing; it is part of life.  It is what happens when someone moves.  Everyone moves on.  And I have moved on.  And it is better that way.  I’m not too confident about fully putting down roots yet, however, as I have no idea of where I’ll be come December.  But that’s okay.

It seems that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side after all.

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