It's weird, being between houses. I don't know what to call home anymore. How do you know what is home? Is it based on time? Because I spend most of my time in Maryland. But the Maryland apartment is not home. The furniture is weird rental stuff, and I know I'm not staying there permanently. I'm not growing attached to it, although it is where a lot of my stuff is living these days, at least the stuff I use a lot.
The house in Pennsylvania kind of feels like home, but it's definitely different than it was. We're rearranging furniture, we've put away a bunch of things, it's just off. And I know that I'm never really going to stay here anymore. That's probably the weirdest thing to think about. The cat is coming to Maryland next weekend, and Mr. HP pointed out that the cat would never go back to Pennsylvania. And that kind of blew my mind a little bit.
The next time I see autumn in Pennsylvania, I'll be a visitor. All these places I view as local, no more. These are no longer my neighborhood places. Philadelphia is not my city. I have moved on. Or, more accurately, I am ready to move on. It's freaking me out.
No comments:
Post a Comment