Home is where the heart is?

Having two homes is very unsettling. Whenever I'm home in Manhattan Beach, I want to be in Chicago. Whenever I'm home in Chicago, I want to be in Manhattan Beach. They say that home is where the heart is so why is it that my heart always seems to be wherever I'm not?

My dad says that this will never go away and he should know...He's the man that's been away from his home since the age of 19. I guess I'm the same age but at least I'm on the same continent as my family.

I've seemed to really discover myself in Chicago which is great. The only thing I'm worried about is that I'm going to lose it when I go back home. Here, I surround myself with people who only think highly of me and believe me in me and just flat out love everything about me. If anyone makes me feel bad I just don't hang out with them...Simple as that. At home it's more difficult than that. The people that make me feel bad are right in my very own family.

Honestly...I'm afraid to go home. I'm losing my support system for a few months and I don't know if I'm ready to handle everything on my own.

Of course I am writing all of this while spending my last bittersweet Monday as a freshman packing up all of my stuff. It's only understandable that my current emotional state is sad and reminiscent.

I find writing in this blog very therapeutic. Whenever I'm feeling a strong emotion it helps me to discover why I'm feeling that specific emotion. It's also just nice to vent freely and to not have to censor anything.

Story Idea: A homeless man who lost touch with his family 7 years ago ends up running into his niece (or granddaughter) when she comes with her youth group to feed the homeless. She tells him their new address and gives him a little money for transportation. He shows up at their house for dinner.