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Going Home

I don’t spend much time in my hometown anymore. Most family events ( holidays, birthdays, etc) are at the lake. When I do go back to BCS it seems like a strange place. Like most college towns, it is always under construction. It is weird to have this familiar place be so foreign to me, to have to ask for directions or suggestions of where to go. Even my parent’s house is new. What remains of my old bedroom is in one big brown box somewhere in the corner of the attic. Me and O slept upstairs on the day bed. I slept on the top part, and him on the pull out trundle bed. Most of the first night he kept trying to climb up tome, but by morning he was on the top, and I was on the floor. I’m not sure which remote to use or where to find a fork.
I experienced the same kind of stumbling around with some of my old friends. Some of it was easy enough. Margarita swirls and guacamole makes everything easier. But then there were new boyfriends and jobs and babies to get straight. Someone took a jab at my blogs. We got slightly heated when it came to religion and made bad uncomfortable jokes when it came to ex-husbands. It was good to see everyone, but sad for the slight uneasiness we all occasionally felt. It felt like the city. Good and familiar and comforting but occasionally new and confusing. People and places had new names. Frustrated to be lost in a place I used to know so well.

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