Back when I used to drive 3 hours a day to and from work (a commute that certainly molded the kind of driver I am today) I discovered the song Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It was such a long drive, especially after work in rush hour, and all I wanted was to get home so I would listen to this song to propel me through my agony (yes, driving really is agony to me).
Home, let me come home,
Home is wherever I’m with you.
Our home, yes, I am home,
Home is when I’m alone with you.
Back then home was my parents house. Then it became Medina (oh Mr. Downstairs Neighbor) and my boyfriends apartment on the weekends, then it became Tremont (oh Mr. Upstairs Neighbor) and now it’s becoming downtown for at least the next two years.
And I love that fact.
I love that I can walk less than half-mile to Heinen’s, my grocery store paradise.
I love the apartment. (All white kitchen…gah…drooling)
I love that I’ll never miss Tower City doing rainbow lights again because I can see it, very clearly, from my window.
I love that I don’t have to fight and pay for parking downtown because I have a parking pass to a garage.
I love that I’m going home. I’ve always felt like Cleveland (it’s suburbs but mostly downtown) is my home. It’s where I belong. It’s a part of my identity.