The life away from home is a unique one. The many innocuous and small discrepancies from living under the roof of your parents are completely unknowable until their existence is forced into clarity.
From arriving home with dinner already prepared to a constant stream of overly familiar conversation, life in your childhood home is wholly ho-hum.
This isn't an attempt to deride or diminish it's comfort and familiarity, yet an expression of routines that became so rote they seemed canonical.
But I have ventured forth from the protective womb of my parents house and soundly plopped myself in an apartment the next town over with my very lovely girlfriend (who lays alongside me in bed as I write).
No more familiarities are found when I return home from work - for home is now new and its routines unestablished.
But what joy! What a lovely distraction from a life that had become in large ways too predictable and dull. Now on my own, with girlfriend as partner, I look forward to a year full of surprise and novelty.
As it is said: home is where the heart is, and I am indeed home.