“I feel like I need to go home, not like I want to, but I need to. Like maybe we’re missing something by not living in our native country while we’re in our twenties.” The many pixels that construct my friend Ty are speaking to me as we bridge hemispheres with our Skype phone call.

I allow my thoughts on the matter to buffer. I find my brain grasping for the words I hear too often as a rebuttal to my homesickness from living abroad, “Yeah but nothing’s changed here. We’re all jealous o. . .