I’d forgotten how wonderful autumn in Korea was. The sun brightens the flittering breeze as the sky is seamless with not a gloomy cloud in sight. Looking at the contents of my suitcase I expected much colder temperatures, the type where long sleeves, a scarf, and a thick sweater barely gets you by, but I am pleasantly surprised that the sweater can wait. I am also surprised how normal and comfortable I already am here. Sure, I’m still jetlagged dozing off at 8 pm as my brother only begins to open his textbooks, but I instantly felt at ease when I landed here. I guess that’s the meaning of home, when you still feel like a part of the house you grew up in, not like a visiting guest. Maybe I’m anticipating the moment when this place doesn’t feel that way anymore that I don’t realize that I haven’t gotten there yet. It’s nice. I’ve always felt like such an old soul, a grandma in a youth’s body that I welcome the idea that I still have a lot of growing up to do.
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