I can’t tell you the exact moment that it happened, but at some point Detroit started to feel like home. Trying to pinpoint the exact moment is likely an impossible task; this homey and comforting feeling is the cumulative effect of subtle, insignificant moments that happen everyday.
Detroit feels like home because there is a security guard that greets me every morning on my walk to work. Everyday, rain, shine, or snow this security guard smiles and wishes me a good day.
Detroit feels like home because friends text me when they are the bar across the street from my apartment.
Detroit feels like home because I met friends for jazz and hot dogs in front of the Skillman Library last Thursday.
Detroit feels like home because I run into numerous friends on a sunny Saturday at Eastern Market.
Detroit feels like home. Detroit feels like my future…