Jocelyn Barrow

I’m 27 years old and I have yet to find home. I have moved 15 times in my life, some days I loved it and some days I wished I could be normal. I used to be so jealous of the people who grew up in one place, who had a best friend they had known their whole life, who never move far from home even when starting their own life. In a way I have had those things. My life feels empty without my sister, my best friend, I have known her all her life. I grew up with one family, and home was wherever they were. It still is. But here I am, 27 and I have yet to find home. In my heart all I want to do is go back to Heidelberg. That was the one place that felt most like home, and it still does, but there is no way I can go back. It wouldn’t be the same. The base is grown over and now used for a refugee camp, my old high school was sold to the Germans (for a good chunk of change) to be a German high school, all of my friends from then have since moved on and I get to see their exciting lives through social media. I feel like a puppy in a box under the bridge. I know I don’t belong in that box but I don’t remember where I came from or know where I am going.