Coming Home?

One week I packed to go off to college, and the next week my parents and brother packed to go off to Texas.

For the first few years of college, I didn't know where to call home. I grew up living in Oklahoma. I went to high school in Oklahoma. All of my friends were from Oklahoma. But my family was in Texas. When I went home for breaks, I didn't go to Oklahoma. I went to Texas. I'd have lots of conversations that went like this

them: Where are you from?

me: Oklahoma.

them: Do you go home a lot?

me: No, my family now lives in Texas *proceeds to explain how my family moved when I finished high school*

or

them: Where are you from?

me: Texas

them: Where did you go to school/church?

me: Actually, I went to high school in Oklahoma....

Going home doesn't feel like going home. My room isn't my room. It's the guest room. I don't know where we keep the mixing bowls or what day the trash gets picked up. I only recognize about ten people at church. I don't have any close friends down here.

I'm glad that my family loves their new town. I'm glad they are enjoying life in Texas, but for me it will never be home.