Do you remember that place that you’ve visited more in your thoughts and memories than you have the actual building? Do you remember what if feels like to live on your emotions, practically drinking your tears every evening and digesting your resignation every morning? Can you recall the sound of the waves of stifling boredom and the desire for things to be over? Sitting on your bed, not doing anything, but wishing that you could do anything but this? Afraid and sick of activities you hardly ever participate in? Not knowing who you are or where your home is? The pressure of culture weighing down on you that you never before realized?
Do you remember the pleasure in your ignorance of your “home country?” The place where people say “Welcome back!” and you smile and nod your head knowing that they won’t understand that this is not a door that has a welcome mat under it, it is the door to the airplane that takes you to new experiences. The door with an inviting warm welcome is the one that you already left; the one you will return to.
Well, at least you thought so. You’ve known so many doors in your life, but which one leads to home?
Perhaps you will never know.
Perhaps all of them do.
Perhaps none of them do.