Where do I belong.

When you’re little you imagine going to far off places. Living in big beautiful cities. Meeting crazy characters that end up being the main focal points of your story. These make believe places that you dream about are all places you’ve heard about in films, songs, and books. You live this free existence that no one really understands. Why would you leave whats familiar into something you’ve never seen? The moments that act as they’ll last forever. The memories that hold you back from your fears. Those moments of being young and reckless without a care in the world.

Yesterday I packed my bags and said I was leaving.


It seemed farther away than I imagined.

I boxed up every memory. Tore apart every photo. Said I was leaving and never coming back. Never say never, right?

Entranced by big lights and cityscapes, leaving the confides of your hometown to something bigger. This illusion you gave yourself when you were younger. Everything is better somewhere else. Everything is going to change once you change yourself. Failing wasn’t an option, it wasn’t even a footnote in your story. You pack everything you own into suitcases and boxes and hope for the best of everything you want. I didn’t know where I belonged, but I knew I belonged somewhere.


I said I was leaving. I said I wasn’t going to come back until I made something of myself.


Today, I felt like a stranger in my own hometown. Today the familiar faces that I grew up with are growing up. Did I miss the mark on being a grown up, believing that reality happened outside of your hometown? Chasing dreams, following strangers, and believing in illusions, everything I believed in yesterday. Today, I stopped believing.  There’s nothing like the present to frighten the past. It doesn’t matter how many places you’ve been, you could always come home. It doesn’t matter how many memories you have, you still haven’t gone very far.

Today, I felt stuck in my hometown. Today the streets that intertwined with the memories of the past, followed me into my present. You could always come home. The same faces, same ceilings, same old haunted stories, you could always come home to. I know every place and street in this town. I know the people, their stories, and their history. I know that after every darken night with bright lights, comes a sun lit sobering morning. Coming home isn’t always an option, coming home isn’t always a choice. Sometimes, coming home is all you have left once your spirit is broken and your dreams fade. My dreams were always bigger than my hometown, but today I can’t help but feel so small. Something bigger is coming, I know it. For the moment I have to settle for the sobering confides of my small town. Piece together the dreams of yesterday I have left. Piece together every scrap of an illusion that made me want to leave in the first place.

Today I said I would be different than yesterday. Today I said I’ll give this all a second chance. Today, I’ll figure out where I belong. Where do I belong?

Yesterday, I said I was leaving. I can’t help but wish that I was. Packing up every memory and starting over. Today, I’ll settle to stay home. If only for a little while.

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