christine

Jan 07 2012

Home is where the Heart is.

In high school, my best friend got a tattoo on her chest that read “home is where the heart is,” during our senior year of high school. Maybe it was the summer after we graduated, I can’t remember. That year was a blur to me.

She got the tatt because I was moving to Long Beach, Ashley was moving to Arizona, and she was moving to Texas. In the end, home would always be San Bernardino to us. We always figured when we were all home at the same time, that’s where our hearts would be—that’s where we called home.

4 years after high school graduation, it is finally 2012. I haven’t seen those girls in probably 2-3 years, at the least. Sure, we’re still friends on Facebook. But where are our hearts now?

As of RIGHT NOW, I am living in Long Beach, my family is ~60 miles Northeast of me and my boyfriend is ~60 miles Northwest of me. Best friend? Let’s not get into that messy topic. My heart, I guess, is with me. I am my own home. Where I am and who I’m with, I’m always happy.

The thing is, people always say that since my family is so close, since my boyfriend is so close, I should be able to always see them. A distance is just a number attached to units. Whether it’s 60 miles or 316,800 feet, it’s just a number. The fact of the matter is, it’s impractical to be treating our “shorter” distance as though we were still living in the same city. A round trip is still half a tank of gas, not to mention expenses of food/entertainment. I won’t use this as an argument, because I believe all distance relationships deserve respect regardless, but keep in mind how upsetting it can be to be so close, yet feel so far. That’s all I’m saying.

In roughly 5 months, when graduation rolls around, that’s when my heart and I officially become nomads. But until then, I want to enjoy this comfort, this place I can call home.

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