Once again it seems as if I have kidded myself that “home” is where “home” is. I have seen the world 6 times over always looking, rather searching for that feeling, of my “home”. I thought that moveing back to the place that I had been born and raised was where I could find it but everyday it seems that I start to find reasons why it isnt. I find it almost depressing that after living here for 18 years and leaving at 18 for the army that when I return 9 years later after fighting wars and terror, supposedly, I find that I have hardly a friend left and some people who I thought use to be friends wont even acknowledge I am in the same bar. So here is my ? why, why should I stay when I really have nothing here to stay for but parents that blame me for there shitty life and say how I up and left them instead of staying to help mow the lawn for my mom and calm down my dad from “attacks” that I supposedly cause because I left? I am starting to see that the damage has been done and I will more than likely wonder this country for years to come still in search of “home” One good thing I guess at least no is shooting at me and I can speak the language…………….
