home home on the range
When you're at home struggling through fights with parents and siblings you feel that you cant wait to get out. But then you do, and a week passes and one more week and you begin to miss the melodrama that is family, then you crave it.It has been a part of life, a part of everything. it was what you complained to your best friend about when she asked why you were in such a pissy mood. Home is where the heart is, no matter what people say. I often wonder why so many children in abusive homes always want to go back. That is what they know, that it what is familiar. I should be used to being away from home, after all, Im a multi-city person, constantly going back and forth. But home, where I grew up, where I truly belong, even if sometimes i feel like an outcast. My parents are far from perfect, sometimes i think they might be better off divorced, but when i think about all the times i saw them fight to all the times i see they love each other, i realize the love out bids the hate. Maybe I should put this to good use. Its an equation for life. Love should always outbid hate. I am excited to be going home. I want to hear my brother fighting with my mom, my sister fighting with my mom, my dad fighting with my mom, my mom fighting with my dog. I dont look like my parents, but i act like them. What we see is normal may not always be normal to everybody else, but what is the definition to normal? I am going home and I cant wait to step inside our world again, out of mine, into ours. Only for one weekend, but one weekend may be enough. By Sunday I'm almost positive I'll be ready to leave again. Stepping in and stepping out. Will I be a stranger, a visitor in my own home? No, because I know that as soon as my sister runs her mouth and my mom yells and I yell back, I know where I belong.