Hometown glory.

Growing up is kind of difficult, especially when you were sure that you already have had it behind you. You have responsibilities, a relationship, an apartment, a job, bills to pay, laundry to do. You deal with all kinds of issues that were invisible to your eyes before. Sure, I have already told you about how independent I was since I turned 16 and could start working legally. I never had any illusions- sooner or later you have to face things such as moving out from your home, leaving parents behind. I just didn't want to wait for it too long. I was always well prepared for adolescence, I was waiting to turn 18 to be able to make my own decisions about everything. After that I couldn't wait to move out, because my mom used to say that as long as I was living under 'her' roof, I was going to listen to her. I made choices which I am proud of, ones that I'd rather not talk about, but in the end it doesn't matter, because I can hold my head up high. I would never wish to go back and let my mommy pay my phone bills although such things are usual among my friends. When I left Poland I wasn't sure whether I was leaving for good, but it turned out it was so. I tried not to look back. It's all OK… until you go back, even for a few days. Until you see your niece all grown up, going from kindergarten to real school in a year. When you realize you have more in common with your brother than you ever assumed. When I see how fantastic he and my sister-in-law are together. When you see that your favorite beloved kitty is not such a kitty anymore because it is 15 years old and tired after a short run. It gets difficult when your old bedroom is turned into a guest room and everything you had in it is in boxes in the basement. When your mom can't join you for a walk because she doesn't feel too well. When your dad is so tired after a day of ridiculously hard work that he falls asleep in the middle of your story about last stay in Italy. When you come back from your holidays and the first thing that welcomes you are emails from work asking to take extra shifts. Don't get me wrong. I know it is a part of life, it shouldn't be any different. We can't stop time and play hide and seek all day long. It is just that one thing hit me after arriving at our apartment. You know what they say, that 'there's no place like home'? That's true. Absolutely, entirely true. But my home, you see, is somewhere else now. My home is where love is, and I find it in many different places. It's not my parent’s apartment anymore. It is where we live with Mattia and our pets, it is where my brother feeds the ducks together with his wife and daughter. It is also where my mom puts me to bed after having too much to drink at my friend's wedding. It is where I run into a friend in the city centre and we hug because we missed each other so much. It is also far away from my hometown in Piemonte, where my boyfriend’s mother will hug the hell out of me each time we visit her. The Catholic Church teaches that God is love. Well, in that way I could be a believer. Love is divine and it's always to be found in other people. And I feel at home everywhere where I find true love and people who show it to each other in any way possible. Well yes, I can have big mouth, but when the time comes to leave the parking place and head off to the airport.. I do look back. I see my mom in the window and for a very short second I have to hold my breath and hold my tears inside corners of my eyes. I immediately see what I have to leave behind and just can't really believe I will probably not see these people for another year. I love them, I love them all - very much. But there is a man standing by my side now, and when I look at him I remember again who I am, where I am and why I do what I do. Home, love. It's all the same to me.