The In-between

“The air smells different here, doesn’t it?” I’m promptly told it doesn’t. But I can’t shake the feeling it does. It has to. I recognise it, and I know it straight away, even with all the planes in the air. But it’s strange, too, because it’s exactly like I remember, but also something feels different.

I keep getting asked “is it good to be home”, and the answer isn’t quite as tidy as the question. Here feels like home. So does there. It depends which part of me you ask.

I’ve built pieces of me overseas. I’ve built most of me here. So I think I’m learning to live in the flux. And I’m learning to love it.

But for now, I belong in the in-between. And I’ll just enjoy being warm for a change while I’m on this side of it.