There’s something different about late-night drives in California. Something about the sunsets, the freedom, the expansiveness of the freeway, the way the air feels as it brushes across your face through the window, the low thud-thud-thud of beats in the car.
Something about the emptiness of the Californian suburbs - how you can drive for miles and miles without seeing anything much other than trees, hills and the road and somehow feeling very comforted, very relaxed by that.
I found home in California this past year.
I found home in the quiet valley of Almaden in San Jose. I found home in the arms of a small boy and his family. I found home in people who accept me for who I am and love me unconditionally.
When I’m with them, I feel that I can just be myself.
I feel safe, secure, free.
And I guess that’s all I need to feel like I’m home.