so I was thinking about coming home last night (well… I’ve actually been thinking about it since we got here, but anywho…) and while I was thinking about coming home and seeing all our friends, it out of nowhere felt like we weren’t the ones who were gone, but they were. I don’t know why, but it felt like we were the ones who were home, and everybody else was gone.
we weren’t “coming home” any more… we were “moving”… again.
it was one of those feelings that wasn’t quite right, but wasn’t wrong like I was telling myself it should be. it was, I think, the first time that this place felt like home, really home, not just the place we were living. I have become comfortable used to being here and it’s a strange sensation.
it is definitely going to be a huge change coming back, and not that it is, but it almost feels like a step backwards; moving back into our old place, getting back into our old routine (well, mostly), and returning to the place where we were a year ago.
I’m not saying it’s going to be a bad thing, I’m still more than eagerly awaiting that day we go to Vienna for the last time and get on that plane headed home, but it’s not going to be the big “coming home” that I had imagined, but more like a “moving away” in a sense.
very strange.