When you come from a small town, one of the most used sentences is, “I can’t wait to get out.”

I could never relate to that sentence, or understand why everyone always wanted to leave so bad. Don’t get me wrong, I love traveling places I’ve never been and I always look forward to vacations where I get to escape the hassles of my daily life for a little while. But the thought of forever leaving behind the place that formed me into the person that I am? To me, there is just too much to lose.

When I am away, I think a lot about my small hometown of Orange, Ma. I think about the house that I grew up in, where I had my first pet and my first sleepover. I think about all of the summer days that I spent inside of my treehouse and how many scars I have from my brother teaching me how to roller skate in the driveway. I think about the clearing in the trees beside my house where I laid in the grass for hours just watching the sun shine in between the leaves and branches. I haven't lived in that house for a long time, but I still miss it.

I remember every day that I spent inside of my old high school, and how the empty parking lot was where I learned to drive my first car. I remember every Friday night football game under the lights - through the rain and the snow, everyone was always there. I remember the pride you felt the night your friend scored their 1,000 points, and when everyone in the stands flooded the field when the boys soccer team won against your rival. I remember every homecoming event, every prom, every spirit week, and every time you almost killed the people in your class when you had disagreements but at the end of the day, they were the people in your corner who always had your back.

I remember every small town tragedy that has happened, far too many that should ever occur in a town that only holds 8,000 people. Maybe that’s the reason so many want to leave. But I also remember every fundraiser, donation, and act of kindness that came from our small town uniting together after each and every one of those tragedies. Maybe that’s the reason I want to stay.

Some of my friends are in college now, some are in the military, some live in other states and even other countries, and some live at home. No matter where I am or where I’ve been, I always miss them. That doesn’t mean that I want to stay restricted to the town where I am from - I live at my college that is two hours away from home, I have traveled to a country on the other side of the world and I want to travel to more. Every opportunity I get to see something I never have or be somewhere I’ve never been, I want to be there and I want to see it. I want to experience this life in every aspect of the word.

But when there are no more planes to catch or oceans to cross, I want a home to come back to. I want an old back road that is sketched in your mind no matter how long it’s been since you’ve been on it. I want familiar faces and overdue hugs, and no matter where I go, I want people to know my name. I want to drink morning coffees with my mom. I want to watch Sunday football with my family. I want to pick up my friends who know my favorite song and what I am afraid of and what I looked like in second grade.

Maybe I am just a lucky one who found my home in the place I was born in, maybe others are still looking for theirs. But once you find a place you carry with you no matter how many times you stray away, it makes you wonder why you would ever want to leave it.