"Oh, so where are you from?"
An innocuous start which twinges an existential conundrum. Who am I? Where do I come from? Can I even know who I am if I don't know where I'm from?
I have no hometown, which is to say I have no town I consider "home". Home was where my parents were, though now that they're halfway across the world, home is my house. Per Dictionary.com, a home is the place and residence of a family or "where one's domestic affections are centered".
Where are my domestic affections centered as a town? Certainly not in Ohio where I was born, nor in Michigan where I lived 6 years. Nor in Eastern Tennessee where I've now lived for 8 years despite my trips there every single year to visit Grandparents. That identification is split with North Carolina.
Hometown may be Athens, Alabama where we lived for almost 10 years (me 8). It's where I lived when I created my fondest memories with friends. It's where I go back and some people still know me. Some, not many. Birmingham could be home too. I grew a lot there. I became the person I am today. But it's not quite "homey".
No, I think, as always, I make whatever town I'm in my home. I dive deep, wrap myself up into it.
But let's be honest -home is where my books live.