When I think of Home

You know how sometimes you like something, I don’t know what, just anything. And it’s like the best thing you’ve ever had, because you have nothing else. You have nothing to compare it to. But then you try something else and then it makes you question the thing you had before; makes you wonder if it was as great as you thought it was.

Being in the states, being around family has made me do that. I wondered aloud on many occasions why people would return to the states jus because of a deployment. The duty station was their new home now, the home they shared with their husband and kids, if they have any. Don’t get me wrong, I do have friends in Germany. I have plans, I have things to do. But being here, it makes me wonder what’s the point? The majority of my friends in Germany, I will never talk to again. Being there sometimes is like being in a play. Except the stage is my life. And I have to be this person, and do these things, because it’s what’s expected. But is that really me? It’s very easy to blur the lines between doing what I like, doing what’s right, and just doing what’s expected of me.

Being here also reminds of what it’s like to have a family. I haven’t lived in the same vicinity as my family for many, many years. And even though they get on my nerves, I like it. I like having people around me that I know have my back no matter what, no matter what stupid thing I may say or do. I can just be myself, whether that be good or bad. Whether I’m feeling charitable or bitchy, they will ignore me, or possibly get mad, but regardless, they will love me after I’m out of my funk. Here, there’s always something. There’s always some kind of drama or a situation that needs smoothing over or someone’s hurt feelings or ego that needs to be stroked. And I’m tired. I’m tired of having to be so strong all the time, I’m tired of not being able to let my guard down, and of having to tread softly, always holding back a piece of myself in order not to offend someone.

I just want to go back to a time where I was free to just be myself, free to be sad sometimes. Free to want to be by myself sometimes, free to do things I want to do and when there is something I don’t want to do but have to, free to say that. I’m hoping that when I get back to the states for good, it will be a place of freedom for me. The freedom that I now long for.

I just hope I’m not disappointed.