Homeless, but Not Houseless

I feel like I've lost touch with the concept of "home." The word feels like nothing more than what it is...a word. It's a word that's supposed to be filled with some sort of mystical quality--a refuge for some, a fear for others. There's something special, unique even about going "home."

I've lost touch with the word. After spending a week and a half in Waco and Austin, I felt a little bit homesick. When I got back to my house in Fayetteville, I just didn't feel like I was back home. I left for Branson for three days, and coming back to Fayetteville still doesn't make me feel at home.

It seems like every single day, my house in Fayetteville feels less like my home. Yet, the thought of going to Austin doesn't feel like going home. It feels like leaving home to go on this year-long, years-long, maybe life-long adventure. I'm sick for home whenever I leave, but I long just get everything over with and leave Fayetteville behind.

It's just this weird transient stage. I've been preparing myself for months to leave Arkansas, but the thought of being somewhere else still scares me. Somehow, I feel good neither here nor there.

I really think it's a mix of fear and longing. I am certainly afraid of what comes next in life. I could move to Austin and become poor, lonely, and a failure. At the same time, I long to get there and prove those fears wrong. Soon enough, I will be in Austin--making it my new home. I have a feeling that once I'm there coming back to the NWA will feel a bit like home--seeing old friends and my family. What I mean is this, this is a weird period in my life--the transition between old and new. However, soon enough, life will be back to "normal" though everything will be new.