Leaving Vegas.

So I’m sitting on my bed, tired from only getting three hours of sleep last night and waiting for my laundry to finish so I can leave for the airport.

And for the first time in a very long time, I don’t want to leave Las Vegas.

You have to understand this – I am not a fan of my hometown. I do not want to live in my hometown when I am older. I spent a majority of my youth trying to get out of my hometown.

But the last five weeks have been nice. It’s not because I don’t pay for bills while I’m here. It’s not because my car and I were reunited for a short period of time – though that helps. It’s not even because my parents have given me much more leeway than they ever would have two years ago.

No, it’s because when I’m here, I’m comfortable. I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to stress. My family is here. Some of my best friends are here. I know how to find my way around, even as new buildings pop up on every street corner.

I’m home. And I always forget how much I like love that.

I know I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, and then in March, and then again in May.

But I’ll still miss it.

Each time I leave this city, I appreciate it a little more.


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