A Homeless Place

  Immediately after the train started, my son burst into tears and startled my wife and me. Touching the child’s face, tears covered my palm.
  ”I want to get off the bus. I don’t want to go back. I have to play in plum water for a few days.” The child cried while protesting. But the protest seemed to be a bit overwhelming-in fact, he also knew that his request could not be fulfilled, but he was unwilling to finally struggle.
  Looking at my son with tears in his eyes, I was also infected. I felt sad to leave my hometown, but at the same time, there was a bit of relief-my son was reluctant to leave my hometown. Maybe there are other factors besides playing at the hometown?
  Maybe he was attracted to the temperament of my hometown? Or is he already in love with my hometown but he just doesn’t know how to express it? Of course, all this may just be my passionateness-maybe he just likes to play in his hometown from beginning to end-his hometown has a playmate, landscape, and a vast world of crazy play. But no matter what, my son clearly expressed his nostalgia for my hometown for the first time.
  I can be regarded as a more traditional person, and have a kind of obsession with hometown. I want to escape from my hometown to the outside world while reading. Nowadays, when I am really in the outside world, I often want to go back to my hometown to see it. In addition to contributing long vacations to their hometowns, most of their annual vacations are also given to their hometowns. For fear of not returning for a long time, my hometown won’t recognize me.
  Not only that, I also tried to let my son know my hometown, remember my hometown, and integrate into my hometown. Every summer vacation, I have to send him back to his hometown for a period of time. I hope he understands that this is where his dad grew up, and I hope he likes this place. Therefore, when he cried and shouted that he did not want to leave my hometown, I was naturally relieved. However, this kind of comfort is more or less a Q-style self-consolation-I know better than anyone else that I can no longer fully integrate into my hometown, let alone my son who was not born in my hometown?
  The longer you leave your hometown, the deeper you feel of being alienated from your hometown. There are often scenes like this: The hometown that I think about day and night in a foreign country, once I go back to face it, I feel a little at a loss. Young and fashionable and already so, when you return to your hometown when you are old, the sense of alienation is even stronger. I ca n’t integrate into my hometown when I ’m alive, but what about after death?
  I am an atheist, but sometimes I always remember that even after the death of a person, even in the absence of a soul, there must be a place to stay in form. The mountaintop of my hometown was my ideal place to stay. How many insomnia nights I had imagined, after death, buried on the top of the mountain in my hometown, blowing the free mountain wind, overlooking the landscape of the hometown. I also talked seriously with my wife. In the future, you will come with me too.
  My wife thought my thoughts were a bit ridiculous. In her opinion, after a hundred years, we seem to have only two choices: either, we are all lying in Beijing and still reunited. Or, each of us should return to our own hometown, and parted ways, for a thorough “distance love”. “But our children and grandchildren will all be in Beijing. If we lie down on one side, how much trouble it would be to worship us,” said his wife jokingly.
  Indeed, if I choose between my hometown and my family, I am afraid I will still choose my family. It seems that returning fallen leaves to roots is not so easy. Perhaps, from the moment we left our hometown, we were destined to never return. Actually, even if I lie on the top of my hometown in the future, what can I do? The descendants of my hometown don’t know me.

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