The problem with that is I don't belong there either. My family is there, I have lots of friends there, but again, I have been gone 20 years and as much as I would like to think otherwise, no one was devastated, no one couldn't bear life without me, and no one died when I crossed the line out of Calhoun county and headed east. I am sure I am missed but life went on.
It's an odd feeling and one I cannot really explain. I just don't feel like anywhere is home. I don't belong.
I have a home. I love my little home. I just get this overwhelming feeling that this isn't where I am supposed to be.
The best I can explain it is it's like I am on the periphery. I have great friends up here, but the majority of them have lived here their whole lives and have known each other at least that long. They know each other intimately, know the histories, the connections and as much as I am included and made to feel welcome, there is part of me that knows I will never truly blend in or belong.
No matter where I go; friends houses, school events, church, the same feeling comes over me. It's like I missed a big party that everyone else went to and even though we are all friends or friendly, there is something that sets me apart. They have all had an experience that I haven't had and I can never catch up.
I have this idea in my head. I am going to drive into some town, some city one of these days and just know. I am going to walk into a house, and I will be home. I will feel it in bones, smell it, let it wash over me and then I can feel as though I can relax and belong.
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