I am going home. I’m heading to the place where my family awaits me… There they know what is my favorite meal and I keep boxes with completely unnecessary things [which are too important to be thrown away]. I’m going home, where I keep my pictures and clothes and…. .. where I don’t even live..
Wait, what?! How weird is that?
I do not live where my home is and I bet most of the people of my age experience the same. We are students, nomadic creatures moving from one place to another, packing our bags over and over again. But what is more… I’m also a traveler and this fact complicated everything even more… So where’s home for me?
Half year ago I would have said that I don’t have a place to call ‘home’.. And this fact was making me sad (sounds funny, but one makes up problems just to be excited.. 😉 ). BUT NOW my attitude has changed a lot.
H O M E is something you cannot define just by the coordinates or bunch of useless stuff you’re bound to. Home is something more. Yes, I’m going home, but I’m leaving my home too..
So this is what I learned during my summer.. A wonderful summer at home.
It’s with somebody who understands your sense of humor!
For me home is in Klaipeda where my family is, it’s in Vilnius, where I meet all my old best friends. Home is also in Samara, Tahoe, Mikkeli, Kiev, Santa Cruz and Salt Lake City. It’s in Kortrijk, London, Glasgow, Karlsruhe, Guadalajara, Queretaro and Riga; San Francisco, New York, Boston, Portland… It’s everywhere. Australia, Europe, Americas, Africa and Asia.
Home is simply where somebody cares about you… And is willing to share. That’s enough to call place Home. 🙂