Home

I miss home. Most of the time, I do not talk about it. Most of my conversations about home have to do with other people. Few really want to know about me and my feelings about the place. 

I understand it is more interesting to talk about an exotic place and all the perceptions one has about it. If they went there for any length of time, it is natural to speak about their experiences as well.

Home is more than a physical location. My hometown is so big, it is difficult to miss the entire place. I trained my heart to think about the people who make the place. 

Family. Friends. Friendly strangers. I miss that about home. I also miss God's beautiful creation. I miss looking at the beautiful architecture and being surprised by the smell of the sea, just a few miles down the street. 

Recently when people bring up negative things, I just listen. Depending on how open they are, I might give my opinion. This one guy one time, gave me a whole exposition on the political sphere of my home and compared it with his. I stood there and I did not interrupt him. I smiled and waited for the monologue to end. That particular individual was looking for someone to listen to him and admire his opinion. He was not really trying to have a positive exchange of ideas. 

When people ask me about home, I listen. When they walk away, I go back to treasuring all the memories I hold in my heart.