My Beach

Home… where is home. 

If home is where my family is, 

then home at the moment is the middle of the Seattle Airport. 

It’s a strange realization, that Virginia Beach isn't home anymore. 

But yet, in a way, it always will be. 

The friends, the memories, the family that I left back at the beach will always be a part of me.
With my Bedouin lifestyle, ‘home’ always been relative. 

It still is, but this time it is different.

Who knows where my crazy, wonderful, insane life will take me, 

however, I’m pretty sure I shall always return to my beach.

With our suitcases surrounding us like walls, 

             we secloister ourselves into a corner of the airport. 

We sit and wait for the inevitable, 

the boarding of a flight that will eventually land us in Okinawa. 

My sister is curled up on the floor, 

my Father is on his iPad, probably doing something that involves linguistics. 

My Mama is reading her Kindle. 

And me, well, I sit here quietly writing.

Moving, the word still sounds weird.

I’ve moved plenti-o-times before, tons, and yet, 
it never feels like it happened. 

Yes you’re somewhere else, 
but it’s almost like life picks up exactly where you left it. 

Things are still uncertain, and surreal. 
But life is an adventure,
why not live like it is?