'Cuz I’ve heard you can’t.
I left 20 years ago and swore I’d never move back. The funny part is… I may have changed my mind.
I’ve been home and away several times, most recently when I went back to school at age 30. I lived at home with a parent for more than 2 years. At times it was tough, but in general it worked out well for both of us. The only trouble is if you’ve too much stuff. Get rid of the stuff, and pay your share of the bills on time, and you’ve got a fighting chance.
Okay… not “home” home.
Maybe your home town/city/country. Or even “home again” as a metaphore for pretty much anything.
Depends on how you’re defining “home.” Hometown? Sure, I think that’s possible. I will probably never live in Glen Burnie again, but I wouldn’t rule out living in Baltimore someday. I’d prefer not to, because I’d rather live somewhere new (and farther from my family), but I could.
Parents’ house? Not for me, but I know that others can (and have). My parents divorced when I was in high school, and Mom’s house stopped feeling like “home” when I went away to college: that first summer I came home it was very clear that the house revolved around her and my brother. I bided my time until I could move out on my own, always grateful to return to school each fall. I moved out less than a year after graduating, and never looked back. I’ve now spent more time living in other places than I did in her house (which we moved into in 1980). She would have to be mentally or physically incapacitated before I’d live with her again, and even then it would be in my house, not hers.
When people say “you can never go home again” I think they mean that life can never be the way it was when you were growing up. The insulated, black-and-white world that most people experienced as kids can never be recaptured. I agree with that.
(On preview you’ve defined “home,” of course, but I’m letting this stand anyway. :p)
I’m living about a mile and a half from the place where I was born. I don’t have to go home again; I’m still home.
I’d never want to live in Great Falls again.
But I did live with my parents for 2 months while I looked for a place in LA. It was alot of fun.
There’s nowhere to go back to.
I’ll probably never return to my old neighborhood (too many bad memories), but I still live in my home town.
My mom just sold the house I grew up in, so no.
I moved back to my home town area after being gone for about 25 years. It’s like a new place. It’s not easy to reconnect with friends, unless you’ve made the effort to maintain the friendships. You’re not in the same place, not like you would have been if you had stayed home and shared lives.
My best friends from childhood have married and divorced people that I never met and had kids that I didn’t see grow up, not to mention jobs and pastimes and hobbies that I know nothing about. Since we didn’t share that history, I have to get to know them all over again.
And I learned to be careful when reminescing (sp?) in front of friends’ spouses. In fact, sharing memories when spouses are around isn’t a good idea at all. Would you believe that some people don’t tell their spouses that were married before?
You can’t because it’s not ‘home’ anymore. It can become a new home but if I were to move back to my hometown, it would not be the same place at 32 as it was at 23, at 18 or at earlier.
Go back east? God yes. California’s nice, but I want to live where there is weather.
Move back to Waltham or Lowell, yeah, probably, more likely Lowell where I went to college than Waltham where my parents live.
Go back to my parents, hell no. I was back visiting last week and I spend most of time as far away as I could. I can’t sleep in my old room. I can’t sit still for wanting to scream. There is nothing in this world that would make me go back there to live. There are enough sofas I could crash on, enough floors for a night that I can’t imagine getting stuck back there.
When I was growing up, I’d always say I’d move out of Bakersfield and never come back. I’ve been gone for nearly a year now, and I’ve decided that as soon as my enlistment’s up, I will not only move back to Bakersfield, but I will never leave. I’ve been all over the country, and I like my home town best. Lord knows it’s not perfect, or even being close, but I’m comfortable there.
Of course, I’ll probaly change my view on things in a few years.
No, I wouldn’t move back to my hometown. It’s a very depressed area economically; there’s nothing for me or anyone there. Think of every dead PA coal town stereotype and double it. It goes without saying that I would not move back into my parents’ house.
I still live in the same general area though (1.5 hrs from the hometown), and don’t plan to leave for quite awhile.
Nostalgia can be cruel.
After university I plan to live with my fiance for a year in Manchester, until he finishes university too. Then we’re going back to our home town. What can I say? I like the place.
I realised I wanted to set up home in my home town after my parents moved away from it. I miss it.
Don’t particularly want to go back to my old hometown. For one thing, there’s a distinct lack of opportunity there, secondly, there’s a history of racial violence in the town, and for me, as an Indian woman, with a non-Indian partner, things would be distinctly uncomfortable. Plus the fact my partner’d never want to live there either, and factor in my parents, then returning to my hometown is something I don’t want to do. Besides, I prefer the city.
Go back to India?? I’d sooner die. I love visiting but never would want to live there.
Go back to Detroit, MI? I’d sooner…eh, never mind. 
I’ve actually done that. Several times, last time this summer.
My parents normally spend summer abroad (in the US), so their apartment is empty. So – if we need to redecorate, repaint, move some walls, whatever… in our appartment, we do it in July or August - school is out, so the kids don’t need access to their books, desk etc… and my parent’s place is empty. So we let the workers “move in” as it were, and we “move out” - to my parent’s!
It’s a great arangement.
The place I grew up is still there, but there’s nobody I know or care to know living there. I couldn’t wait to get out of that hole when I was 15, and I’ve only been back twice since. I have no family left - no parents anymore, no relations with my brother and sister on this side of the continent, no friends from the old days. Everything I used to know is a thousand miles away across a border. It’s all rather like a black-and-white movie I saw once. I’ve even let my passport expire because I have no plans to go back there. I am home now.