Going Back Home is Always Weird

I was finally starting to move on from everything in Fremont County. Not only was I hiking everywhere around Oregon, but I was getting to see the other states as well. About a month after Montana, my boyfriend and I went to visit his sister in Washington. The drive was gorgeous, and even though Seattle is heavily flawed, it was still cool to visit for the one time. After I met his sister, we went to meet up with some of my old Colorado friends. It was perfect timing because they were visiting our friend in the army, stationed in Washington.

Finally, things were feeling good, but there was one thing I was totally unprepared for… going back to Colorado for the first time. It was my sister’s wedding and of course I was the maid of honor. I was ecstatic for my sister, but I had to admit, I was so unbelievably nervous. I’m an extremely vivid dreamer and have been since childhood. A few weeks leading up to my hometown return, I was having vivid dreams of old friends and old boyfriends. I was naturally having the worst anxiety of my life.

It was finally time to get on the plane and head back to where it all began. Once the plane touched down, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, I was only away for six months at this point. I guess six months can be a lifetime. When I saw my dad, he seemed off. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was picking me up at midnight or if he just didn’t care all that much about my return. I tried making conversation in the car, but it was like talking to air. Naturally, my feelings were hurt, but to my surprise, my mother was ready to greet me with open arms.

I was closer to my father than my mother, so it seemed like everything was off. However, I knew it was going to be a party week since my sister was getting married. Once I saw her, I unloaded to her about how weird and uncanny the vibes were. She told me that as my dad was aging, his attitude was only getting worse. To be honest, it hurt my feelings that my dad’s mood didn’t seem to cheer up when I came home, but I was trying my best not to take it personal. After all, I still had some old friends to see and I really did miss the mountains and the quiet.

I had to be pretty particular about who I was going to reach out to and who I wanted to see. To my dismay, it was harder to get people to see me than I thought. A couple that I was friends with since high school seemed excited for me to come back, but when we hung out, it was pretty awkward. I was calculating in my head all the things that I should say because it seemed like I was hanging out with strangers. I’m not sure if it was because we were living in different area codes, or what, but when they briefly moved to Texas, I made sure to book a flight and visit for a week, but they didn’t seem as on board to visit me. I was confused, but not entirely surprised. Before I left, I could tell there was a disconnect. My best friend and I were pretty weird and goofy together, and they seemed to get embarrassed by our energy. Like there was this one time when the girl came with the two of us to Olive Garden and I made a joke to the waiter about my IBS. My best friend and I thought it was hilarious, and the waiter seemed to enjoy the interaction. However, the girl seemed to be not on board with that joke, or other jokes my best friend and I made. We also noticed several times when they would break off from the two of us and we knew that they probably weren’t digging us anymore.

Not only that couple, but I tried to hang out with my old coworkers and it was nearly impossible. It was another couple, and I assumed I was close to both individuals. The girl almost didn’t make it because of another friend she wanted to hangout with, even though that friend worked with her and she could see her literally anytime. And then when I did meet up with her, her boyfriend decided not to come with, even though, again, I thought I was close to both of them.

Finally, it was time for the wedding. I was ready to see family members, have everyone ask me about my travels, and dance the night away! But of course, the reality didn’t even slightly reach my expectations. When I saw my grandma, she almost seemed disgusted by my presence. Hardly any family members made an effort to talk to me, and my grandparents even left without saying goodbye. I’ve known for a very long time that I’m the least favorite grandchild, but damn, I still thought I’d get a “hello granddaughter,” and I definitely thought I would get a goodbye. Not to mention, I was only one out of five people who danced.

By the end of the night, I was confused as to why I even tried reaching out to people from back home. It seemed like my family and friends couldn’t care less if I came to visit. I knew my sister wanted me at the wedding, so that was the exception, but everyone else seemed less than thrilled for me to be back. I finally sat down with my dad and asked what was up. He told me, “Of course I’m happy your home, dude. It’s just that everyone’s caught up in their own lives. It’s nothing personal.”

He definitely had a point there. Everyone is usually too focused on their own lives to realize what’s going on in someone else’s life. And that’s not a dig at other people for having things going on in their own lives. I guess I just thought things would be different, but then my boyfriend told me about his first time returning home when he was in the army. He told me that some of his friends never got back to him when he notified them of his return. I also talked to my sister’s friend about it and she said the same thing. She was born and raised in Fremont County, but once she moved to Michigan, she became a ghost. She also said coming back to home gave her the creeps, just like me.

So, I guess it was a universal feeling. Going back home is always weird.