Leaving home's a cinch

"Leaving home’s a cinch. It’s the staying, once you’ve found it, that takes courage." --Catherine Watson

Since graduating from college four years ago, I've lived in seven apartments in five cities. On average, I move twice a year. I've moved in with total strangers and with my best friends. I've lived alone. I've hauled several loads of possessions over the highway to a new place. I've whittled my possessions down to three bags and started over from scratch. Nearly always, I move places where I'm a complete stranger. Then I meet amazing people and grow close to them. Then I leave.

I've been trying to figure out why I do this. I'm the sort of person who likes to keep her options open. That's the beauty of short leases and transient roommates. You just keep moving on. What a strange phrase, "moving on," a phrase that never looks back. I'm always looking for the next thing, the next city, the next friends, the next home. I'm restless. Eyes always sweeping the horizon, waiting for something--that amazing something--to come over it.

I've come halfway around the world now. It would be difficult to move farther, either geographically or, for that matter, in any other way. I live in a region I once said I'd never even visit. I've held entire conversations in a language that I didn't understand a year ago. I've seen cities most people have never heard of. I've loved people who can only be found here, who can only be known in this place.

But I don't really think I'm home.

In seven places in five cities, I haven't found home yet. Because home is the place we come back to. A place we always know will be there. A place we know we will always belong.

That's why I call myself a stranger here. I'll always be a stranger, even if I stay five years, or 10, or 50. I could never call this place home, because I've seen what can happen to a city in a day--in an hour. You're a fool if you believe that your country, your city, your house is something that will always be there. It is like standing next to the ocean, watching the waves crash, and believing that your sand castle will stand forever. Look at all the greatest empires that have ever crawled the face of the earth. When it gets down to it, for every country, for every city, for every house, their fall is only a matter of time.

That's why I keep scanning the horizon. I'm still looking for a different city. One that doesn't shake when an earthquake hits. One that doesn't groan when a war comes. One that doesn't change after a hundred years, or a thousand.

One where, one day, I'll stay.