Better a Witty Fool than a Foolish Wit

Inner Workings of My Twisted Mind.

You Can’t Go Home Again.

Thomas Wolf wrote a book called You Can’t Go Home Again.  A wise professor of mine once said, ‘you’re a true literature major when you can speak intelligently about a book you have not read.’  So I could, I suppose, wax poetic about Tomas Wolf’s book, but in truth, I haven’t read it (it’s in my mile high pile of books to read), and really the content of the book is not that relevant to the discussion, just the title.

So on Sunday, I went to Santa Cruz for a very short period of time.  I drove back tuesday.  It’s funny because usually when I’m in Santa Cruz I spend the whole time hiding in my parents house for fear of running into anyone I went to high school with.  Somehow, I always end up at the bars surrounded by the very people I was trying to avoid.  I always end up leaving totally miserable and unhappy that I decided to take time off work to go up there.

But when I was up in Santa Cruz it was different.  I only saw people who I really wanted to see, including my two best friends in the entire world.  It’s funny because as you grow up you sort of forget that there are all these people who you know better than anyone else.  There are these people who watched you go through all the stupid shit, they watched you as you went through your awkward phases, they didn’t judge you, but they know you, instinctively.  They can sense it when you’re agitated or don’t want to talk about something…and they don’t have to ask why. 

Those friends are the type of friends that you can go without seeing for a year and when you see each other again, it’s not awkward or forced.  You don’t have to have conversations about the weather, you don’t have to know every single thing that’s going on in each others lives.  You can just be. 

And there’s something about seeing those friends again that just sort of soothes your heart, even if you didn’t think it needed soothing.  I’m just calm and just me around those friends.  I don’t have any defence mechanisms to hide behind (and lord knows I’ve built a lot of those), but I don’t need any of those defence mechanisms to hide behind when I’m with them. 

It’s funny too because those are the types of friends that you don’t really realize that you miss until you talk to them.  It’s like, they’re so much a part of your soul that they’re sort of always with you, but then you talk to them, even for five minutes, and you realize that yeah, they’re always with you, but they’re not really with you and you want them to be soooo bad.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that Thomas Wolf has it both right and wrong.  Sure, you go home and it’s not the same, it’s never the same.  You don’t have a bed or a room in your parents house now (and it’s your parents house, not yours), and it just doesn’t feel the same, it’s not your home, in the big sense of the word.  But there are still people that are Home, capital H.  There are people that signify home and that make you feel that feeling of home that you felt all those years ago when your parents home was home.  Maybe it’s a feeling that you have now, with your husbands and wives and kids.  But when you’re my age, home is a sort of feeling that you have known, but it’s no longer there.  Like  I said, you can’t truly go home again, but your apartment isn’t quite home either.  Sure it’s the place where you live, but it’s not HOME.  When you’re with those people though, those ones that calm your soul, that’s when you get that feeling of home back. 

And I guess I’m being a little sappy, but every once in a while, you’ve got moments like those, when you’re just you.  You’re not all the labels that you can put on yourself, you’re just you.  And I think that those are moments to cherish.

So to you two (you know who you are) thanks for the great weekend.  And to the rest of you, take a second to think about those people who are home to you,  appreciate that shit guys, cause it’s kind of cool.

Sorry to get all sentimental, but I’ve got a little of that in me too.

Peace, love, and going home again in any way possible,



July 6, 2007 Posted by | Friends, High School, Santa Cruz | Leave a comment