Coming home from North Carolina for Christmas I was so excited. I enjoy the south, but I have realized more than ever, I belong in the Northwest. I didn't take much with me when I moved to Fletcher, and coming into my bedroom in Oregon once again I was struck by how much STUFF I have. Books piled all over the place, boxes from my apartment that were never unpacked block the floor, way more clothes than I need still fill the closest.
I love that coming home will always be the same. My parents will always be happy, the house will always be cold, the carpet will always feel the same, Powell's will always be better than church. But my relationship with home is changing. I haven't lived at home for more than a few weeks since I graduated from high school seven years ago. I mostly refer to this house as "my parent's house." My belongings are here, but I don't really live here. I feel like I have been in transition for a while. North Carolina is not a permanent destination. I don't feel the need to pack everything I have and ship it over.
My parents home isn't really my home. I loved my five years in Walla Walla, but it isn't home. I really can't go back to Sunset Lake again. And as much as I like North Carolina it doesn't feel like a forever home.
When my time in North Carolina comes to an end I'll have things to think about taking or leaving, furniture, children, boyfriend. I look forward to a day where I feel settled in my own home. I identify as an Oregonian. I don't like pumping my own gas, and paying sales tax grates on my soul. I'll probably end up in Oregon, and I know no matter how far I wander my parents will always be here in their brown chairs waiting for me to come home.
Moral of the story: I literally have the cutest cat.
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