Coming Home Journal Entry

August 10, 2016
Dear Diary,
It’s only been a couple weeks since we got back, but every time I close my eyes I can still hear the horns of the taxi’s blaring, smell the aroma of street bar-b-queue lingering in the air and see the barefoot children playing basketball until their Lola tells them it’s time to come eat. But when I open my eyes, I’m faced with silent roadways, endless chains of fast food restaurants, and three year olds with their eyes glued to their ipads. I haven’t been home in about three years, but it feels like I never left. Nothing was unfamiliar to me. Not once did I miss the countless cover stories for Trump’s latest commentaries nor did I miss the comfort of my car’s air conditioning, surprisingly. Instead, I was too preoccupied with learning

He’s so gorgeous…. anyway, I’ve only been back at school for about four months now, but I’m still constantly thinking back to my summer vacation, when I went back home. It’s weird to use the word “home” when I’ve been living here in the states most of my life, like probably thirteen years. Well duh, I’m only fourteen. But most of my family, like tita Ann, tito Topet, ninang Lorie, are back in the Philippines. I mean I have some titos and titas here, but most of them are back there, back at home. It’s not that I’m not content with the relatives I have here; it’s just that I feel like something is missing, like I’m not whole. I know deep down inside my actual home is here in Texas, with all the Dairy Queen stops and Sunday night football games, but sometimes I wish I could have grown up in the Philippines with my other cousins and relatives ya know? Y’all know what they say, “home is where the heart is”, but what if the heart is in two places at once? Did they ever think of that before making this quote? I think