Journey's End.

I arrived home after a long and weary trip. All obstacles and challenges faced were overcome- I fought through, and with distinction. All was clear once I boarded the plane for home. Security was a rare fifteen minute joy, as I had forgotten many of the rules and regulations during my absence. Consequently, no less than three Coca-Colas were surrendered to their nefarious rubbish bins. On the Atlantic journey I watched Music and Lyrics as well as 300, both while seated next to an eight year old whom I fervently hoped wasn't paying much attention to Zack Snyder's idea of the Battle of Thermopylae. Her names was Savannah, also returning after a stay with grandparents in Nürnberg. In customs on U.S. soil once more I talked with a couple returning from Greece. All of us had one common bond: we were going home. There's no feeling quite like it in the world, a mixture of relief and apprehension. The security and comfort of a real bed, regular hot meals, seeing old friends. The anxiety of leaving again. There will come a day when I am but a visitor to this place, this concept of home that I have in my mind. The only home for the wanderer is the one you make for yourself. It comes in different apparitions, but it's there all the same. I'll find it someday, but now my shoulders are still killing me from that 38 kilo duffel. Exploring the far reaches of the globe will have to wait. But not for long.