Home is where the heart is

| Staff Columnist

I like many others went home this past weekend for Thanksgiving break. I saw people I hadn’t seen in three months and generally spent a lot of time doing what I did during high school. I spent time with my family and friends and didn’t sleep nearly as much as I should have.

Before I flew back, my dad asked me which felt more like home: Plainview or St. Louis. I couldn’t give him an answer that satisfied me.

Basically my entire pre-college life is in Plainview and the surrounding areas. The people I’ve known for my entire life and whose personalities developed along with and intertwined with mine are back on Long Island. The places I grew up frequenting and the geography I know are there. My support system, my bed, most of my clothes and my DVR are all there. Plainview is familiar and comforting. Then again, going home reminded me just how much I don’t like the people at home whom I don’t like.

St. Louis is new and, at times, overwhelming. I don’t know nearly as many people, and I’m not nearly as close with those I do know. I don’t know how to get around off campus except the Loop. Every day is different from every other day. The food is worse (although it’s still really good). I will live here for the majority of the next four years.

I very rarely get the chance to be totally alone here. I don’t know whether this is good or bad.

When I was home this past weekend, I missed my new friends from school. I missed Ruby 1. I missed my roommate. While I’m here, I miss my family and my friends and my bed. Wherever I am, I miss high school. When I’m on a plane coming or going from or to St. Louis, I generally sleep.

So where is home? Is it where I’ve been or where I am? Is it where I’m comfortable or where I’ve reinvented myself to be whatever I want to be? I really have no idea.

Maybe I now have two homes.Or maybe I haven’t found one yet.

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