There are two things I'm certain of that will always bring tears to my eyes: the movie "Bridesmaids" and seeing the "Welcome to Louisville Metro" sign entering my hometown as I'm coming home from a long trip. I have lived roughly 83 percent of my life in my hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, and I have such strong roots there that somehow the drama of my departure felt more like a funeral for the life I've had there than a send-off for school. Coming to Asheville, North Carolina, for college, where I knew no one, knew no landmarks, or even any good places to eat was as terrifying as it was unbearably enticing. Like being cast into cold water, it was time to engage my mammalian dive reflex and hold my breath under the guidelines of a new state and circumstance. As I'm sure many of my other out-of-state peers have done before me, and are doing right now, I miss home. I miss home, yet in the same breath I'm taking my new locale up in my arms faster than I can carry. So this one's for you, and everyone like you who's missing home.
It's okay to miss home, too. You're allowed to miss things. Picture it now in your mind: your favorite street in your hometown. Remember the way it looked during the summer? The leaves rustling musically, the way it smells like sunshine and the color green. The chairs from your favorite bakery dotting the sidewalks. The sky is blue, wispy white clouds are overhead. And there was the pothole you somehow always hit with your car, too. An aggressively loud thud that makes you cringe and apologize to your car. It really is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Your hometown is something to be proud of; it's hard not to be. Even if it is a sh*thole and there's never anything to do, it's yours and everyone you know is there. Even if you don't like the people there, there's a different dynamic there, one that's familiar and comforting; something ingrained in you that you can always return to.
Something so particularly lonesome is missing food. Food isn't just food. Eating is not only the immediate physical gratification, it also grants the eater a community. Here we are, all liking this same food! I used to frequent this cheap pizza-by-the-slice place, Spinellis, with my best friends -- sometimes every week for months -- and the worst part of being gone is not having that time with them anymore. It's strange and upsetting to not have anyone to miss things with you. You wouldn't think it's a big deal, but it is. It's disorienting to miss things people have never heard of. Yet here I will be in a few months over winter break, helplessly lusting over Bojangles -- here, in Asheville -- which my friends back home have never even heard of because Bojangles doesn't exist there.
Something worthy of note, however, is the change in people. While I miss the folks back in the 502, people here in the 828 are too interesting to deny. There are many subtle changes in the way people here relate to each other, and ultimately everywhere you go. People here are cool. There is no cheeseburger here; instead there is a black bean patty with pepper-jack cheese and garlic aioli on a grilled-pretzel artisan bun served with crinkle-cut kettle chips and dipping sauce. Essentially, things are complex here. But they're complex in a way you can't be angry about because it's so dang cool. Even the slang here is different. I came here in my Kentucky vernacular and learned that my words are NOT their words, which ultimately was more funny than it was shocking.
Essentially, there are so many things to miss from your hometown, but there are even more things to love and embrace in your new one. You love your new town for the same reasons you loved your old one. Even if it's scary sometimes to love something new, I promise you're not betraying your hometown. It'll always be ready to welcome you back, and while it might continue changing while you're gone (which is one of the most upsetting things, in my opinion), it'll always have the same bones and be the same place you knew. There's a reason it's your hometown, because it'll always be there.
