Home is the place I go back to, the place I sleep and eat, where I spend most of my time, a place I feel comfortable, a place I feel I belong.
I think about it a lot, especially when I come back to the U.K..
When I think about why I’m coming back, what I’m going to do, where I’m going to stay, who I (need/want/am going) to see.
It complicates it in ways that still makes me feel the anxiety rising.
This time I came back because there were people and things I missed living abroad.
I suppose it is significant the people I have seen and those I didn’t get around to seeing.
The people who can make me feel like I’m home, the places I can say the same.