In a cold bed, in a damp room, in a dark house in the depths of a valley I entertained ideas of running away. Away from obligation, responsibility, board payments, job expectations, early mornings and behaving like the grown up that I wasn't. Now I lie in a warm bed, a fire blazing, my two little children fast asleep in their rooms, my husband by my side. I make mental notes on the articles I need to submit, the stories needing to be penned and the friends to be caught up with tomorrow. Both situations are more than 10 years apart, the same girl, the same city. Once abhorred, now adored. It's a bittersweet occasion that the time has come to break routines, cut ties, uplift roots and leave. For the fertile plains, the hometown, the wild coast and small scape city that relentlessly calls my name. Until now the hometown has been a place of Christmases spent wandering through lit-up trees, passing old familiar faces. Some called out and grinned with open arms. Some gave a wa