Glenn Beck

And the strange yet beautiful thing that I'm just becoming, just getting to the place to where I can see it, the youth in these towns, they just can't wait to leave.

They count the days.

They lie in bed at 16, staring at the ceiling, certain that life, real life, big life, is happening somewhere else, somewhere in a city with bright lights and no curfew and no chores at 5 a.m.

And so they go.

And we let them go.

And then they go out into the big wide world and something funny happens to them.

They find the lights and they find them cold.

Might take them a while.

They find the crowds and they find themselves lonely in the crowd.

And one day, they're driving home from the airport, coming home for Christmas.

They're driving down this road.

They could drive blindfolded and they crest that.

That last hill.

They see that valley that they couldn't wait to get out of.

Just lying there in front of them.

And something in their chest just cracks open.

And they realize the big life, the real life, was here the whole time.

And they spend years trying to get back.

And some make it.

The lucky ones make it back home.