"Hometown"

So today I visited my high school.

And as I walked through the halls, I couldn’t help but feel . . lonely.

I realized that as I walked through those halls . . . . I was a year older, a year wiser . . and a year more experienced in the game of life. This distinguished me from the other students walking in the halls, and it became painfully evident that I just didn’t belong. I mean, I saw my friends and visited my old teachers, and that was definitely rewarding . . . .but something just didn’t feel natural anymore. When I was a senior I spent my time cruising in and out of the school as I pleased, on top of the world and everyone in it. It had been my territory, my domain, and most of all, my home.

And now I was back at Friendswood High School in the small town of Friendswood, Texas, where I spent nearly 10 years of my life, and it just wasn’t the same. Everyone didn’t know me. My friends had lives of their own. And suddenly, I was no longer in the picture. It’s a weird feeling, knowing that just one year ago that girl walking in the debate room or principal’s office was you. It’s a weird feeling knowing you were so close with this teacher or that one and now she barely recognizes you. It’s a weird feeling knowing you’re not there to go to class and meet up with the same people you’ve been around for most of your life.

They say home is where the heart is . . . . and I think all of us are going through experiences now where we realize our hearts are no longer where we left them. For me personally, this year has been a journey all about finding home, and I still don’t know where that is. Is it in Moscow, with my family? Is it in Austin, with my UT friends? Or is it in New Orleans? What about Friendswood, where I spent my most trying years?

Maybe “home” doesn’t really mean anything besides a place where you can be happy.

In that case, my “hometown” of Friendswood is no longer the top contender.