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There is something comforting about being home. Maybe it’s the fact that I know when the traffic is going to be at its worst. Or maybe how I know when downtown is going to be insanely clustered with tourists. Or how it’s second nature driving down one winding road to the next. Or how I know when Starbucks is going to be empty and have room for my thoughts and me.

Or maybe it’s just how I know this place influenced me.

It influenced the person that is writing this.

It reminds me of where it started and where I grew up. It reminds me of the good and the bad and how i got through. It helps me remember the people that I love and the amazing friends that I made.It helped me mold myself into someone that one day I want to be proud of.

Look at your home. Maybe you love it. Maybe that home, that town, and those people make up your favorite place. But maybe it doesn’t. Maybe you don’t love it. Maybe you want to leave as so many people in my high school did. Maybe it isn’t everything like is written in a fairytale about how your home is supposed to be. But keep in mind that it shaped you. You’re strong and that is because of where you came from. It’s because of that street that you grew up biking up and down, that room that you cluttered with posters, that school that, at times, felt like torture, and that road that you drove down endlessly blasting music with the windows down. It’s because of all of that.

Never forget where you came from. Don’t forget the place or places that made you who you are and helped you get where you are now. The little things and the small places may seem like nuances, but they do add up to something. They add up to where you end up.

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