My home is wherever my family and friends are. I realized that the first time my parents told me they were selling our house. I specifically say the first time because although all our stuff was moved out after a month, ti must've taken 2-21/2 years to sell. Anyway after that month it never felt like home again, so when I thought of home, it had a more fluid definition in my mind. I'd think of going and seeing a movie with my brother, or driving my moms car to pick a up a friend. Or meeting my dad and his roommate fro dinner. And frankly associating these thoughts with the word home was more comforting than thinking about our our basement which needed to be re-painted and cleaned or that window that would never shut and was letting cold air or bugs in. Not that I didn't love the house, I just realized I loved the people in it more. A rare, sappy realization on my part. The pictures are from Made by Girl.
No comments:
Post a Comment