I headed south this weekend to celebrate the 30th birthday of my best friend.
It marked my first real return to the place that I resided for 17 years without ever feeling at home.
There was a celebration. A fun, exciting, dancing filled evening of celebration.
Dinners at favorite restaurants.
Visits with old friends.
All the while I experienced the strangest mix of feelings.
At times it felt as though I never left. The ease at which I navigate the city. The visit to my old employer. This time on the other side of the table but at the table nonetheless.
But that whole time I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I made the right decision. This wasn't home. While it was nice to be there, I was happy it was temporary. I couldn't wait to get back.
Even B, when asked about my weekend, probably put it best. How was my weekend away? That is all it was. It was a weekend away spent with great friends.
I returned today to my home. To the house, that although I have only lived here a month is truly home.
There were 2 dips in my hot tub. One upon my return and one after my 6 on 6 basketball game.
I sat there.
Because I was home.