I’ve Decided I’m Coming Back

I’ve decided I’m coming back to you. I’ve decided I’m coming back to hamburgers and ketchup. I’ve decided I’m coming back to hot sauce. I’m coming back to dense forests and rolling foothills. To humidity. To supermarkets. To daily showers and the knowledge that I can drive as far and as long as I want on a whim.

I’ve decided I’m staying here. I’ve decided I’m staying here with the green fields stretching so far they kiss the horizon. I’m staying with mountains like sharks teeth, row upon rising row, until they tear the sky and clouds pour out. I’m staying with outhouses. I’m staying with food poisoning. Staying with blue doored, white washed homes. With brown dumpling faces and feral dogs. With ants on my desk. With roads so rough they’re more pothole than pavement.

I’ve decided I don’t know what I want. I’ve decided that’s OK. In fact it’s good. I’ve decided it’s part of the fun. There is much I miss and much that, in two years, will have grown so comforting on cold nights and dark days that I will miss it in America. There are times, both brief flashes and long hours, when homesickness blots out all else. When I miss my family or friends or an indoor toilet with a seat. I won’t lie and say I always love it here, but do you always love it anywhere?

No.

So I take the good with the bad similarities with the differences. I like it here. I like my new friends, I like my new home, I like my new life. Most of all I like all of the new things I’m learning.

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