every time i come home i think about all the great things about this place. i glamorize it in my mind and get to the point where i even kind of miss it at times. when it gets really intense i even sometimes wish i could go back.
now, i don't really feel this way about home. i'm happy to be gone and i'm happy with the life i've cultivated for myself. so it can be somewhat disconcerting when i get to the point of missing it.
the realization comes in this: i don't actually miss this place, nor do i want to come back. the feeling that i get isn't a desire to have it back at all. it is a feeling of safety and comfort and of familiarity.
that's what gets me every time.
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