Space

I learned early on in life that, when you leave a place, things move on.
Moving away and back to one place and another various times, I caught on pretty quickly.
So why does this surprise me?
People's lives expand to fill the spot you left empty. I know that.
There are those rare people who keep a little space for you. Even if you move away, and they move on, and you travel through years of time and aeons of experiences, they are able to welcome you back. But even these people don't manage it perfectly. When you come back, both parties have invariably changed. It's inevitable.
So why did I think that my family would be an exception?
There is literally no room for my things in my house anymore. I have to move my sister's stuff to be able to unpack. Emotionally, there is more room. The three of them got much closer this year, but they still welcome me back. What's weird in that department is that they expect me not to have changed. Oh, they know that I have. But they don't know how, so they treat me as if I haven't and wait to see where I've grown new corners that don't fit the old grooves.
I guess I can't blame them. But I feel... shoved back into the past. And the past is gone. It has no space for the present.