The Icky In Between

I think I am generally a happy and well adjusted expat. I don't regret my move. I make fun of the locals more than I get upset by them. Most days I feel like my life has changed for the better with my international experience.

But right now I am in some kind of icky in between place. In between one home and another and another. This is the longest I have been back since I moved. It was also my third weekend in Philly this year.

Last year, I wrote about my last real home, the place after which I named this blog, Jeweled Concrete. When I was out with my friend D. this weekend in Philly, a girl was talking to him in a bar, and he explained that we were good friends, that we had known each other since we were 7. I laughed because we have known each other for only 6 years, not 26 years. He said, same thing for all he could tell.

I have tried to make a home in many places over the years. DC was too far south, the people wrapped up in their dreams of greatness, often disconnected with any reality, far too absorbed in the inner workings of the political machine. I never got to give it a real try, but Boston was too far north, the humor black and biting against my undying optimism, too gritty and bitter. I couldn't even be a proper Red Sox fan because I always believed they would really do it.

I am sure now, as I probably have always known, that Philly is my real home. The tough humor is a form of flirting and affection, the grungy city feels authentic, my favorite memories are there and I know the people, even when only for a few days, like I had known them since I was 7. Not everyone could love this city but I do.

So now, the man I love is in Munich and the city I love an uncertain someday. Life has a way of coming full circle, and maybe I won't always be caught in between. Today I am, and it feels icky.



Posted from Delaware