Putting miles on the nostalgia card.

Being homesick without wanting to go home.

Every time I visit home I come back with a chip on my shoulder.

My sass is through the roof, my attitude leads my emotions. It feels gross and comforting at the same time.

As soon as I touch down to Newark Airport my shoulders instinctually reach for my ears, it’s what I like to call the ‘Northeast shrug.’ It feels like a mix of bracing for the anxiety th…