So allow me to summarize the past few weeks.

PEI kicked the shit out of me. My very first night out I received a broken nose, the night of Dan's wedding I woke up under a car in Sherwood in a tuxedo and lost my cell phone, oh and and I got pepper sprayed and spent a night in the drunk tank after urinating off a bar balcony. I saw a lot of people I sorely missed, and didn't see even more. The time went by way fast and I found myself barely fitting in my dying grandmother (my "healthy" grandmother I didn't see at all). The entire trip I was abhorrently irresponsible and I found myself needing a vacation from my "vacation". I also will in all likelihood be paying back my mother until the year 2059.
My time there was entirely weird. Since I got back I've been trying to find a coherent way to put it into words. August is always a crazy month for me psychologically, and a trip back home was entirely too much for my brain to handle. I consumed enough drugs to make up for my 4 month hiatus, and enough Rev to give me diabetes. Consciously or not, I burned all kinds of bridges and I made a complete fool out of myself, because "Fuck, why does it matter?"
Everywhere I went I would hear Dashboard Confessional or Stone Temple Pilots or Blink 182 in my head, and everything I saw and did made me sickeningly nostalgic. The whole visit had a shocking Garden State-ness to it. I was home. Or was I? PEI will always be my home up here *points to head* but things didn't feel right, everything there felt vaguely foreign, as if I had lived it in a past life, and my interactions with people were completely different. I found myself feigning a different personality for myself in order to facilitate social interactions. Everything from family to friends, it's almost as if I wouldn't be loved if I came back "the current Matt." It's really exceptionally difficult to explain, but suffice it to say I will always miss PEI people, but I didn't (and don't) miss PEI's bullshit.