Home

They say home is where your heart is and based on my recent experiences, I have to say I totally agree with that. I spent most of my life here in this little village with my family but I can honestly say that I was never happy here. I always longed for something else, dreamed of leaving this place behind me.

When I finally left and moved to my own place (at the age of 16), I was happier than ever. I had a place that I could call home and it felt more like home than my parents’ place ever did. It still does, and now that I’m back at my parents’ place (I’ve been here for about 7 weeks now), I got to thinking: what is it that makes my little apartment and that little, dirty city feel like home?

The first thing that comes to mind is of course friends. I’ve never had such good friends before. They’re the ones I can share everything (or almost everything) with; they make me feel good about myself, loved and happy. I associate my apartment strongly with some of my closest friends because we’ve spent so much time there. It’s like, when I think about my apartment, I can just imagine my best friends sitting there by the table, drinking coffee, or outside on the balcony smoking and talking and laughing. Of course I also spend a lot of time alone at home and I like being alone but the best memories I have from my place all include friends (and usually alcohol, but that’s another story :D ).

Another thing is freedom. When I moved away from home, from a small village to a ‘big’ city, I finally got the freedom I had longed for. With it came responsibility (like adults always love to point out: with freedom comes responsibility!) but it was okay, I’ve always been good at taking care of myself. I can’t even begin to describe how much I love my freedom, even now after 2 years. I love being able to do whatever I want and go wherever I want. I love the city I live in because it represents freedom in my eyes whereas my parents’ home represents captivity.

I know for sure that right now my heart lies with my city and I can truly call my apartment ‘home’ because that’s what it is. I’ve built a life there, I have everything I’ve ever dreamt of (or well, almost). However my heart is not attached to anything solid, that city would mean nothing to me without my friends and the life I have there. I don’t know if that means that I have no real home yet…

I remember someone saying once that we all have a place where we are meant to be. I thought it was pretty wisely said, though it doesn’t have to be taken literally. I’ve found out that right now my place is with my friends, in my city, doing the things I love and living the life I love.

The reason why I started thinking about the concept of home and its meaning is that today I saw some of my friends and I realized just how much I missed everything and everyone. I can feel that I don’t belong here and it hurts. I’ve never been homesick in my life but now it’s really close…