I find home much more of a fluid concept that I used to. I guess I thought that home was a concrete ideal. Some place that has the same feelings and memories and people from a life you slowly begin to forget. But I am convinced now that you need none of those things for home. In fact, even if you have all of them, home is a feeling, not a place, not a memory, not anything material or residual. I feel at home with happiness. And happiness is not here. Here is a house, void of anything happy or warm. Family is also a fluid concept. One does not need a nuclear family for home to be something graspable. You need love. And feelings of warmth and kindness. All that said, I feel displaced here. Like I'm just a boarder with my own family. Sometimes, I feel like the cat is the only one that feels the same way I do. I mean, I have love here. And memories. But I don't fit. Just an extra piece.
I'm really not unhappy, just lonely and sad. I only have myself for love and kindness and patience and understanding and even I have little of those things. I look forward though. Hope is something we must never lose. If we lose hope, we have lost the will to live.
Songs to consider:
All The Same (Sick Puppies)
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