On rainy days like these, I think about that year I spent in the Dominican Republic.
I get a glimpse of my classmates who were 12 and 13 at the time, dancing in the rain.
I will always say, that island is my home away from home.
My permanent home is In the U.S.A because it’s where I made my life, English is the language I speak better.
My whole world has been created in this country.
The Dominican Republic is my home away from this concrete home.
New York City is a dimension you will never see on my island.
The people, the foods, the vibe is just different.
My Island is this place I visit when I need to get away from bricks and loud noises.
Get away from snow and hail.
When I am on my island, my inner child is content.
My best memories are at my home away from home.
My first kiss, my first time riding a bike.
My first time being able to see the stars.
Climb a tree to get fruits.
Riding a motorcycle.
Seeing family I would never get to see if I didn’t get on that 4 hour plane ride.
Rainy days like these remind me of my home away from home.
My home home, the place I know I will one day hopefully die of old age in, is the United States.
It’s where I made friends since high school.
It’s where I have grown mentally and physically.
It’s where I am accustomed to the cultures and the T.V channels.
I love it.
I get the best of two worlds.