Home for Christmas

"Home" for the holidays in Missoula. Christmas will always be that much better at my mom's house in snowy small town Montana. But as I've traveled from Salt Lake City to Portland to Missoula in the past couple weeks, I realize more profoundly just how uprooted I feel. Salt Lake doesn't feel like home to me. Portland feels like home, but I've accepted that I will never live there again. And Missoula feels like the memory of home, a place that used to be home, but is now simply familiar and comforting without the feeling of coming home. 

Now it's people who feel like home to me -- Greg most of all. After a year away in London, I hate being apart from him. Perhaps it's because I suddenly feel like I'm drifting without him. After all, I moved to Salt Lake City for him, and he's the anchor that's holding me there. It's a weird feeling, not knowing where I belong. I want so badly to carve out a little Meg-sized niche in SLC but I don't quite know how. Maybe with the new year will come some inspiration as to how to make friends in Mormon land. I know I'm being a bit melancholy considering it's almost Christmas, but what are you gonna do.