Perhaps

 
I took a Greek literature class while in Peru. One of the 
plays we read was "The Flies" by Jean-Paul Sartre, 
a French Philospher of Existentialism. In the beginning of 
the play,the character Orestes travels back to his home 
town and starts imagining what it would be like to have 
grown up there. He details things that never happened,like
scraping the door with his first spear or sneaking out 
at night to find his friends. While reading this in my
grandma's house I realzied I was doing the same thing. 
I was trying to fit back in. I was trying to visit every 
house and every cousin, and not just see them, but connect
with them, become cousins that could tease and have fun. 
Making up for all the years because I missed what I never had.