Returning Home After Being Away For A While

Thought Catalog

The leaves are beginning to crackle and fall in Annapolis—the city I was born in. The wind isn’t yet harsh or uninviting. It drifts slightly, wisping through hair and clapping lightly through the trees that outline my parents’ home. Growing up I dreamt of the bigger cities I’d live in, promising to leave this place for some arcane reason. I dreamt of careers and romantic dates and a more hustled atmosphere than what my home provided. But as I grow older, the easier I find it to return to this place that housed so many expectations and longings for Tomorrow. I find more comfort now cuddling into the stiff leather chairs in the den, sunken into sturdy, unfluffable craters after years of use. I find a safe familiarity with the scent of warm, buttery vanilla that unfailingly wafts through the kitchen year-after-year, or the way my bedroom is still a…

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