I've been living in a town where I was born for the first eleven years of my life. After that, I moved to a different city and hated it. I just wanted to go back, back to my friends, my school, my street, all the little things I came to call mine. Eventually, after two and a half years, I did move back.
But a few years after I came back, I started to have feelings of intense wanderlust inside of me. That place, that little world I called home for almost my entire life was no longer that. I started to miss places I've never been to and people I've never met. Ever since then, nothing in the world will ever convince me that old place is my home anymore. I might go back to visit my family and wander around a little bit, but it will never be what it was.
Currently, I'm searching for a new home. With better people, better prospects, better life. I still haven't found it and I will most likely spend a great deal of my life looking for it