You Really Can't Go Home Again...

I never saw the truth in the cliché, “You can’t go home again.” What did that mean? I was always able to come home. I even knew what it really meant…not that you couldn’t physically go home, but that it wouldn’t be the same when you get there. My various “homes” were never different. Until one day, I was. It came on slowly, this disconcerting feeling. At first, I just felt a little out of place, but it grew until not only was my home not my home, but my family wasn’t my family, and my friends weren’t my friends, at least not in the way I was used to them. Obviously, my environment AND my family AND my friends hadn’t all changed at once. Maybe a bit, but not so much as that I changed. I was what was different. While changing as a person is a sign of growing (hopefully in the right direction), I can’t help but be upset when I notice myself changing, or growing away from people and places I care about. When I’m down or upset, I try to think back and remember times when I was the happiest, yet when I go to recreate these joyful moments, I’m left disappointed. Because you CAN’T go home again. You can’t take yourself back to a certain time. People change and they most likely have changed since that time. And even when you get them where you want them now, in the present, they’re not going to be the same people they were from your happy memory. They won’t think or feel the same way. You just need to look ahead to the future and try to change and grow for the better, to be the best you you can be. Even if you have to leave people and places behind, hopefully one day it will be for the better. In the meantime, you’ll meet more people and find new places to call “home” and you’ll incorporate them into your life, imprinting new memories to look back on. Maybe we have to focus less on trying to find “home” in other people and places, and find our “home” within ourselves. Maybe that’s the only way to be truly happy.