sometimes it's a long way home. sometimes it's 1383 miles of quiet highways that leads you there. sometimes it's right next door but you're too afraid to knock. sometimes it's in the chair you're sitting in. like now, where I am - home - in idaho sitting in the chair of my childhood. all at once, I am home and away from home. I have made a new one, with a lot of time and work and loneliness and confusion, I have settled my own homestead 1383 miles away from the world I left a long time ago. I am happy there, in my new home and sometimes I am sad there - that it takes so many miles to sit here in this chair laughing with my family.
when I am here I realize all the little things I miss out on. phone call updates can't share with you all of life's little inside jokes. it is the boring and uneventful moments that you share that often ties you to another. while I am here I focus on that, the little things. the way my father tells a story, the way my mother wraps a gift, the way my sister and her boyfriend make each other smile. the way we fight about stupid shit and annoy each other at a steady pace. the way we always know that despite the spat, we will always find our way back to the table to share a meal. family is this strange force that pushes you away and pulls you in over and over for the length of your beautiful life. I don't want to live in this town anymore, but I want to watch my family live here. fortunately it only takes two days and several cups of coffee and one long audio book to get me here. home. away from home.