Finally

Ever since I was a little girl, I have longed for home. I wanted to be where I belonged, where I fit; with people who understood me. The only problem, I had NO idea where home actually was. I knew it wasn't Danbury. It was too small, too cramped, too a lot of things to be where I wanted to settle. I have always felt uneasy here. All the mistakes from which I have learned but can't seem to live down, are here. All the people who "knew me when" and are convinced I haven't changed, are here. All the things I have seen, heard and felt with unease for so many years and now long to move past, are here.

I was sure that I had found a home in Manhattan before I even moved there. It was the city for me, I knew it. I moved there. I liked it. But it wasn't home. I understood it. I respected it. But it was too loud, too mean, too busy to care. I didn't like the person I was there.

Exactly a week ago, I lay in bed, still excited from the wonderful day I had but dreading the long drive home in the morning. I whispered back and forth with Laura of how much I wished I could stay and she kept agreeing. I have spent the days since I returned to Danbury aching for that place. I have been wistful and oddly homesick ever since I got back to the house in which I grew up. This was a city that was clean, friendly and somehow familiar. This was a city where I felt welcome and appreciated. This was a city where I knew I could make a mistake and move on from it. I am now positive that come December, I will apply to Graduate School again. I will more seriously search for jobs that allow international applicants. I will do whatever it is I have to in order to get home.

I need to go home. I need to go to Toronto.