If my life is for rent

So maybe i’m having one of those nights. Laying here with my cat purring away, in a living room. Right now, my room doesn’t feel like it’s mine.

Sometimes I wonder what makes a person. Essentially, in one way or another,  what it comes down to is our roots. Your family. Who you grew up with, where you lived. What you stand for. Your home. But what if you’ve never been sure? Moved from house to house with people floating in and out of your life? Then when all that stops and you have that stability, you realise this isn’t your life at all. That when you think about what your ‘home’ is, you get a familiar feeling but can’t really remember what it felt like. What it should feel like. Now. What is home? For me, it’s not just about where you live. It’s when you feel safe. Where, not everything makes sense, but the things that are supposed to, do. That even if you were to get lost along the way, you have somewhere, a base, to go back to. Something to remind you who it is you are. Somewhere that, you’d only have to look around you, to to find that you share something with others like you. See that you are a part of something. Something that you’ve always been a part of, and don’t know any different. Unless of course you choose to.

What if, for some people, home is not something you have, but something that is longed for? That circumstances along the way, made you forget what home feels like. That you’ve been teased with it, but never really got it. And you don’t realise how much you need it until you look for that base, that safe place, that reminds you of who you are. That place that some people might take for granted, not realise that it is home. Because they don’t know any different as they’ve always had it. You might envy them, even get too close to them. Because you want what they have, and although you don’t realise it at the time, you feel like you are home. But it’s not yours, as much as you want it to be. So you can pretend you’ve got that feeling back, for good. Say for example that you find yourself somewhere, that everyone says is home, and as much as you want it to, you just don’t feel it. Because it doesn’t match that feeling you once had, the one you recognise as home. Your home.

What do you do when you need to go home, for good? As in really need to, to sort yourself out so you can then move forward? Reassured with the knowledge that you have it with you, the missing piece to the puzzle. But for some reason or another that home no longer exists. You’ve just got you. Whoever that is. And a home that should be enough, but just isn’t. Not for you.

The way I see it, there would be two options. The first, to make the most of what you’ve got, and cope with the missing piece in the hope that someday you won’t notice it anymore. Or second, to do something to change it. Cut your losses, find somewhere that YOU choose, something that you stand for and make it home. Because, after all, what exactly would you be leaving behind, when, if you think about it, nothing right now is actually yours? It’s just a thought.



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