subject line: my hometown.



I never lived somewhere long enough to call it my hometown. Then, I found it. A place in the world where I fit in perfectly and everything made sense. The problem is, that place was anytime I was next to you. Some days my hometown was behind the wheel with you in my passenger’s seat. Other days my hometown was curled up next to you under your gray blanket.

Nothing is more painful than being homesick but knowing you can’t go back. My momma told me not to make a person my home but I didn’t listen. I should have listened.