The Fine Line Of Home

I just realized home seems to be undefined. People say home is where the heart is. My heart is in two places. My college dorm, and my childhood house. When I leave either, I miss it. When I visit either, I am happy.

I never actually went through the homesick phase when I left for college. I never laid awake at night with tears in my eyes because I wasn't home to say goodnight to my mother for the first time in 18 years. I didn't miss my brother ( he makes it a little hard to miss him). Even my cat, who was my baby, didn't hold a tab in my mind. But to me, it was still the only home I had.

I wasn't yet familiar with the things around me, they didn't hold an emotional value in my heart. That takes time. It takes patience, and late nights, and early mornings, and homemade meals, and pictures on the wall, letters and cards from the people you left behind hanging on that little string of lights right above your bed.

There is this fine line, composed in the smallest of moments, a moment that you are unaware of. You cross that line, and later down the road is when you realize that this new place has become your home. You leave your childhood house, and go home. You leave your dorm room, and go home. Home doesn't have to be in one place. My heart is in two places.