different.

"They" say you can't ever really come home. I kind of like that idea.
Since leaving home, every time I have come back it's been a very different experience.


Christmas had mostly heartache and sadness.
Summer had betrayal and loneliness but once I found a new niche had adventures and bliss.
Christmas [the second] had contentment and comfort.
Summer [the second] ... I guess I'll just have to wait and see.


Every single time I come home it's foreign and new but I'm slowly learning that I don't want to come back to my past. It's nice to visit the location, but I will no longer be holding on to the memories, the mentality, or the mediocrity of what this place used to hold.


I'm itching for the new.
I want it in hoards.
Time to find out what the next three months will bring.