Falling home

You Know That Saying About How Sometimes You're The Windshield And Sometimes You're The Bug?It's true. Take me, for example. I shook the Georgia dust from my feet fifteen years ago, vowing never to leave Manhattan. I traded sweet tea for Chardonnay, fried chicken for nouvelle cuisine, lazy days on my aunt's front porch for ad campaigns and board meetings, and the guy who broke my heart for my handsome boss, who soon became my fiance. Perfect, right? Until my sister called. We haven't spoken since I left home-because she married the guy who broke my heart. What's more, she called to say my…