parts littered all over the place

I was looking at some random blog today and there were some photos of the Pacific Northwest. Such obvious sorts of photos to a native like myself, and just a glance at the pictures made my heart leap and drop in a tiny moment. That feeling of "That's my home!" followed by, "And it's so far away."
It isn't that I am having a good time here. I am. I love this part of the world very much but it is a different sort of love. It feels like a much more conscious choice to love this place, whereas my love for my place of origin is unconditional and complicated.