We are planning a trip back “home”. Home is where I grew up, where my family and dearest friends live, a place of familiarity and history, my story.
These are friends that I haven’t spoken to in a couple of years, but have emailed occasionally, about intentions to catch up properly. No pretense or feigned interest. It’s because of these great girls that I’ve found it hard to make really close friends when I moved over the Atlantic to the desert. 11 years on and “new” friends that I trust and truly like, I can count on one hand.
I’m coming home I email. All of a sudden a torrent of replies back and forth, setting dates and little quips, excited plans and chatter ; already I’m home.