Ozz

I have moved so many times in my life that nothing feels like home. “Friends” come and “friends” go. People all look the same. Nothing special. Time spent with a degree of devotion creates those bonds, of which I have had few. There has been one. And I have felt at home there over the years. It was a place that was there for me when I had nothing. I did feel at home there. I felt I had a place to be for the first time in my life. And no one judged. It was just how it was and nobody questioned it. To this place I owe a great deal that can never be paid. I grew up there. So much growth depends on having a place to simply feel comfortable at the end of the day. It was a place of refuge. And I grew so much there.
I thought I had friends there too. If nothing else, I had a social life- a group to hang out with. But still they were only ever to be taken at face value. I never really got close to any of them. But still, there is a lot to be said for seeing the same group of people most every night for several years. If you are watching you will unavoidably be connected. But mostly for me, it was the simple fact that things are what they are, and nobody there questioned or judged it. I needed that. I was lost for many years. And that place helped me find who I was, due in large part to that attitude. But enough about this place for now. But it is important for one who wants to understand me, to understand how much I loved that place.