Nostalgia or familiarity?

A wide grin stuck on my face. My eyes twinkled. My pace fastened. I was meeting my father after 35 days. The sight of him alone was enough to make me feel at home. We chatted about random things and experiences, initial feelings and the latter ones and my transcendence from living in a protected
environment to living in an independent one. 
   
      A three hour road trip and fourteen hour train journey later, I was finally in the city that had always been my home. When my first trip back to my city had been confirmed, I had gone over the whole journey in my head; and I had then imagined to be filled with nostalgia as I moved through the city. But the reality quite surprised me. Instead of feeling like a guest in my city, I felt very much at home. Instead of being pricked with nostalgia, I was met with familiarity. It felt as though I had never left my city. My home did actually feel like home and it was then that I realised that some people
and some places are supposed to feel familiar and homely no matter how long you've been away; because when you come back, they embrace you with the same warmth, the same emotions. 
   
      The soft breeze, that is a characteristic of my old city, hit my face and left me grinning. No more heat, no more sweat--I was indeed back home. On entering my home, I was surprised to see how perceptive I was. I noticed how every bit of furniture was dust free, how the floor was actually white-that clean and how every bit of metal and glass was actually sparkling. No, my senses hadn't sharpened in a month. Instead, it was a relative comparison to the place that was now my new home.
   
      As I met my relatives, I realized that I had never missed them earlier as I had been too busy in my new life, and now when I did meet them, it seemed like I had never been away, just like it felt when I entered my city. No nostalgia. Only familiarity.

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