Here we are now, Fukazawa

First, please excuse the title of this post. It is a difficult illusion. I will give an A+ to anyone who can guess intelligently about why I named this post after a Japanese translator, though.

So, for the past ten years, almost, I have felt this incredible nostalgia for my home town. Every place I have lived there was always a twinge of disappointment that there weren't more hills or more trees or more lakes. I lamented the lack of cheap diner food and distrusted the newness of everything. I missed knowing how all the ridiculous non-sensical streets secretly fed into one another.

I missed knowing a place through and through, smells, sounds, emotions, everything.

Having been back in my hometown for much longer than I ever intended I can now say with a large dose of confidence: I will not be overcome with nostalgia again.

Right now I miss healthy food. I miss open-minded neighbors. I miss cultural happenings. I miss old friends. I miss these things far more than I have ever missed anything. I will be leaving soon and it is with only a mild regret that I say, honestly, I may never come home again.