They say “once you leave home, you can never go back.”
When you come back, you aren’t the person you were. The place isn’t what it once was. The people who were your world have left, passed away, or they themselves have simply changed.
Do you think it’s true?
Sure, you come back and try to feel that strange sense of place, you try to recognize a sense of comfort coming from within yourself, but the streets have changed and that voice inside you knows when you’re lying. What once was a grid of welcome mats to one-and-a-half storied postcard homes is now the bearer of bad news in the form of sprawling apartment buildings, Starbucks, and gas stations. What once was a phone full of contacts ready to go at a moment’s notice on a Saturday night is two friends with an hour to spare before they go home to their kids. What once was your oasis as a teenager, your haven from parents, authority, and the man, is just another sticky movie theatre ran by pimply, bowtied teenagers with smartphones sticking out of their vest pockets.