In my previous post I wrote about how I was going to Cornwall for sixteen days with my family and family friends. I have a love for Cornwall, a love that I do not have with any other place, I feel more at home there than anywhere else in the world, even more than my own bedroom which I spent many hours in each day. The reason for this is probably because I've gone almost every year of the seventeen years I've been alive. The place which we go to is called Perranporth, it's a small town next to Newquay, and I absolutely love it. Words cannot describe how much I adore this small town and how much I am envious of all those that live there, it's such a beautiful place.
In January I will be turning eighteen which means I'm going to be properly classed as an 'adult' which also means that there is no more holiday with my parents to Cornwall because I suppose this is the age where you go off on holiday with your friends and basically try to find yourself.
Every year when I go I find myself quite bored, because we go camping but then when it gets towards the end of the few week I don't want to leave. If my house was in this town, my life would be content and perfect. I could do it, living there, I could easily be thrilled with a house not far from the beach, working in a surf shop, thinking about it makes it feel like a dream.
And as I walked through the town on one of my final nights I was feeling quite said to be leaving, I wasn't leaving for just a year, I was leaving for what could be many. I remember my dad saying, "it could be twenty years before you come back here, Devon. You never know, you may bring your own kids here." And honestly, it broke my heart, purely because I feel like Perranporth is my home and I hate the idea of not returning for years it makes me feel nostalgic. But not only that, it broke my heart because I realised that I'm no longer a 'kid' any more, when I was young all I wanted to do was grow up and now that I'm here and soon enough I'll be out in this world on my own I'm wishing I was young again. And I realised that most of my life with my parents by my side is over, in a way this is an advantage as I'm going to experience everything alone now and make my own decisions, but I think everyone needs your parents every once in a while and I'll be damned if my father finds this.
My holiday as always was beautiful and this year the sun seemed to prove a lot more friendlier as almost every day we found ourselves sat on the golden sand of Perranporth beach. However, this year something quite bad happened and I was drowning - due to currents pulling me to the side and backwards - and never had I been more scared, I literally thought I was going to die and in my mind I was preparing myself while trying to breathe. However, I did manage to save myself eventually, which is kinda good.
I don't have a life plan at seventeen years old, but I know one thing, Cornwall is and will be my home and if I ever do have a family, I intend to have one by the sea and so they can fall in love with it like I did. So, I guess I was born a long way from where I'm supposed to be, so I guess you could say I'm going home.