Home. I spent 10 years of my life here, but it's far from it now. This is not where I live. I've abadoned the life here in Texas. Boston is what I consider home, even if my place of residence is constantly changing. The streets, people and places are what ground me.

When I come back to visit my old neighborhood -- twice during the school year -- during Thanksgiving and Spring Break, it felt even more distant than usual. There are new buildings and places I don't recognize. This is not the place I left at the age of 19. Almost all of my friends have left and the ones who haven't are going to soon. Even the music venues have changed. It's strange that the entire city has gotten a face lift while I've been gone. It was only four years.

There are things I enjoy here. Places that doesn't exist anywhere but here. I crave the simple southern life sometimes, but I can't stand the sight of churces on every corner and the Jesus fish on every shiny new Lexus that passes me.

This place barely felt like home when I had nowhere else to go, but now, it's like a stranger asking for directions to a place I've never been.