where home really is

Looking back at this past year, I wonder where exactly it is that I belong. Just about a year ago, I was sitting in my old room in Germany, wondering what my next stop would be. Quite truthfully, at that point, I felt like Germany was the place to be for me. My home. My parents live in Germany, I still have some amazing friends, two little sisters and a book full of childhood memories. Still, I decided to go back to Montana. Another place that holds many great memories and wonderful friendships for me. From there to Seattle. And then to Los Angeles. Quite truthfully, at this point I don’t really know where I belong.

I like Los Angeles. The weather is nice. My job is fun and there always is stuff to do. But I just don’t have the same kind of personal connections that I have in other places. Truthfully, moving to LA was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

I love Montana. And all the great people who live there. But, chances are that I will never live in Montana again. At least not for a few decades.

Germany. The place I used to call home. I think that I could go back to Europe and it wouldn’t take long to fall back into the local lifestyle. The problem is that at this point, that life just doesn’t sound appealing to me. Other than the professional soccer games of course.

Seattle. I have a few good friends here. One great friend. And a wonderful girlfriend. When I first lived in Seattle, this place felt more like home than any other. But I am not sure how it feels now. I know it’s Natilee’s home. Can that make it mine?

I am 22 years old. Have a great job. Wonderful friends. And a girlfriend who holds something that I don’t want to part with.

Yet, I have no clue where home really is.