What it means to "return home"
July 30, 2025
I woke up early in the morning to move my belongings out of my parents' house. We didn't rent a light truck or anything; we mobilized all the cars from my parents' place. Fortunately, the distance from my parents' house to my new place wasn't that far, so we managed, but I feel a strong sense of regret for forcing my father to do so much labor.
It's hard to explain, but while my father doesn't tell me to do this or that, he seems to have certain "fields" where he wants to make the decisions himself. Driving is a perfect example; he doesn't let his children do it, so he plans and executes it himself. This move was clearly one of those fields, and he had already figured out how to efficiently transport the large items. Of course, I had my own ideas, but since my father proceeded in a somewhat unilateral way, I couldn't speak up later to say, "Well, that's a bit..." and the move just went on calmly. What a convenient father he is. That said, I feel that having my father do the moving for me, when this move was supposed to be about me standing on my own two feet, is truly putting the cart before the horse.
Anyway, because we started early, the move was finished before the evening, and a friend even came to visit. While I was buying things necessary for daily life, the air conditioner started leaking water! I had placed a desk under the AC, and since there were important books I use for my research there, a few of them got soaked...
In the end, it seems the air conditioner is unusable. On this sweltering day, of all days. My friend said that since electronics stores are busy this time of year, repairs won't happen on the same day. I shoved the books into the empty freezer as a temporary measure, and we talked about how it would be safer to just go back to my parents' house.
It's so pathetic. Returning to my parents' house on the very day I left it. If there were a "returning home speedrun," I'd probably have a pretty good record. Still, needs must. Eventually, I got on the train with my friend and went back to the front of my parents' house. However, the door was locked from the inside, and I couldn't get in. I could have called my younger brother to let me in, but I felt so pathetic that I didn't have the heart to do it.
This is a ritual. I'll dare to go back once by train, catch a glimpse of my parents' house, and consider this my true "departure from home." Thinking that, I said goodbye to my parents' house, got on the train the same way I came, and returned to my new place. I went to the local public bath, and after washing off the sweat, the night breeze felt surprisingly pleasant. Maybe I can sleep like this. I returned home, took measures against the AC leak, set the timer for a short duration, turned on the AC, and drifted off to sleep, letting the fan circulate the air. Today was a long day. I have properly "returned" here. I think that's fine.