I was gone for a long time. I left my hometown to attend college, then I drifted around the world for years. I worked in remote places, I explored the whole world. It was an awesome experience. It gave me lots of great memories. Stuff I like to look back until now. But it somehow got old, stale, over the years.
As time passed by I really began to miss my boring, lame ass home town. A small town in the middle of nowhere. I missed the smell of it. The people in it. And last but not least, my family. All of them. I hadn’t seen them in years. We only did some video chat, texting or some good old fashioned phone calls. It just was time to get back home again. Not only for a short visit, but for a longer stay.
After traveling two days dad picked me up at the airport. He was driving the same car like he did about ten years ago. Back then, 23 year old me headed out to explore the world. Dad drove me to the airport in the car we were siting in. And yes, I was 33 when I moved back home.