It's strange being "home." I mean, it's great -- my parents just moved into a new house (said new house being my Aunt/Uncle's old house down the street). It's an awesome house, and the newness -- and bigness -- of it makes just being here an adventure of sorts.
However, I came home to come "home." And, even though this feels comfortable (having been here many, many times)
and all of our stuff is here (hell, I've got my own room!)
it doesn't feel like home. Not yet.
However, I came home to come "home." And, even though this feels comfortable (having been here many, many times)
and all of our stuff is here (hell, I've got my own room!)
it doesn't feel like home. Not yet.
I just want home to wrap me up in a blanket and say "it's all good Lindsey. Yes, things are changing quickly, but some things never change."
What a lie -- everything changes. The trick is, I think, to change just in time with the things you want to stay the same. Then again, maybe I'm rambling out of good-old-fashion-tiredness. My bed -- in my new home -- awaits....
What a lie -- everything changes. The trick is, I think, to change just in time with the things you want to stay the same. Then again, maybe I'm rambling out of good-old-fashion-tiredness. My bed -- in my new home -- awaits....
1 comment:
you're blog has inspired my blog. yay.
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