since high school, i've been rootless. the longest span i've stayed anywhere since then was two years each in room 27, the laurels, and 3913 with lee. moving is apparently in my character. mind wandering today, bored in class, i realized a few things.
i wish i weren't so rootless. growing up in south florida, my classmates uprooted and moved quite a bit. not often somewhere to a new school, just bigger and "better" houses trending westward and northward towards parkland. i'm thankful that my roots stayed put for ten and a half years, then about eight more until college. my new friends around here are locals. by locals i mean that they returned to their hometowns, more or less, following college. i'd venture to guess that aside from it being expected of them, most of their friends did the same. it sure makes it easier to go home (or near there) if your good friends do the same. while my roots have become more like spanish moss, theirs are like oak trees. it's hard settling roots in rich soil when you're used to the silty sand down south. tropical trees grow slowly in mid-atlantic winters.
i miss roots. i do miss the familiarity of home, though in my case, it seems the old adage is true, "you can never go home again." not because i got kicked out or my folks wouldn't love to have me, but it's never the same. the nostalgia of what it was overshadows what it's become.