In exactly a month from today, I will begin my life anew across a sea – again.
Without exaggeration, I think what I feel for my hometown is what New Yorkers feel for the Big Apple. I love the comfort and convenience of being near to just about everything and I love still, the plentiful potholes that mar the city’s roads. The good and bad of this city – I accept them all. I love this place; my whole life is here. I hope to keep it this way.
It is a daily ritual now, this questioning. Why – again – did I choose to send and ship myself away across a sea – again – when my heart and soul yearns for home, the physical home as much its figurative counterpart? Why, again?
But it’s exactly because I love, that I can’t stay.
I think the saying, “Nothing/no one ever grows in comfort zones” is not entirely correct; many things still thrive despite the comfort and ease of the familiar. The question is, I think – what are they? Are they things that we prioritize and actually care about, little or a lot, or are they those that we’ve tried, been trying, and are still desperately trying to suppress and keep hidden? Are they things we want to keep nurturing or those we wish to put behind us? By choosing to stay or to go, can we thus live with the outcome that is a newly-revised us – the result of whatever we’ve chosen to nurture and keep dormant?
I love my hometown so fucking much to the point that up until today, no matter where I visit and live the world over, my heart’s compass directs itself right back to here …but it’s exactly because I love, that I can’t stay. Because it’s not that nothing and no one ever grows in comfort zones – it’s that all the wrong things will thrive, silencing autonomous growth.
I cannot settle for this – not without a fight, not yet.
So start the countdown; I’ve officially one month left to starting completely anew – again.