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Home Again

first boyfriend
elementary school teacher
beef broth

Spice Pack:
1/4 pinch of homesickness
1/3 cup of sadness

I sit in the moving car, watching as the familiar landmarks zoom by. The sky gloomy and gray – rather appropriate I think for the occasion. I haven’t been back to this town in years. It’s not that I didn’t want to, scratch that, it’s a boring place. Nothing to do and nowhere to go.
But I miss it.
I’m here to move all my parent’s junk out of their old house. I step into their modest home and inhale the familiar scent. It’s not the same though. It hasn’t been the same and it’ll never be the same again.
I walk into the kitchen. Memories of the smell of my mother’s beef broth and roast duck wafting through the air drift through my mind and it’s all I can think about. Even 20 years later, my mom has always kept my childish artwork on the refrigerator. She was a sentimental person, keeping every little thing. She kept it all even knowing that at such a young age, the art is probably not even by me, but by my elementary school teacher.
Heading into my old bedroom, I’m struck with memories about my childhood and teenage angst. Looking at all the outdated posters on my walls and the cluttered desk my parents never touched even after all these years. I remember sitting on this bed listening to my ipod with my first boyfriend, sharing the earbuds between us as well as endless laughs. I smile a little sadly and yearn for easier times.
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