What feels like home to you?
I’ve been thinking about it at length lately, possibly because I’ve been going through some things and possibly because the holidays are basically upon us which leads me down all kinds of fox holes … and not pleasant fox holes either (if you were somehow imagining a pleasant fox hole).
I went through all the usual suspects trying to figure out what makes me feel at home … it’s not my home town, not my parents’ house, not my place … so if none of those things is home, maybe it’s not a place afterall. I feel like it’s the sensation where you can fully relax and let the angst and worldly woes of your life fade to insignificance. Growing up that was always my parents’ place, lasting at least through college the first time through. Sometime between then and now their place ceased to hold that quality for me though and I’m not sure what replaced it.
My place isn’t home to me, and I came to the realization tonight that I don’t think I’ve had a place that I considered home in a very long time. I don’t ever really unwind anymore. I’m rarely, if ever, free from my demons.
The only times I’ve ever felt truly at peace in the last 10 years have been when I’ve been in love with someone and spending time with them.
Which then leads to the concept that home isn’t actually a place. I mean sure, I love my parents’ house and the area where they live. That area and that house will always be “home”, whether it feels like it or not … I mean it’s familiar, and I have really fond memories there, and it’s all so beautiful and idyllic … but even though I can wander those hills and attempt to drown myself in that familiarity and those memories it’s just not home anymore.
To me it’s got to be people and the relationships I form with them, no matter where we may be. Maybe that explains why, when I’m serious about someone, I want them to see all those familiar places and bring those memories to life for them. They are my home, and I’m trying to connect them with the old home that made me who I am.
So when I lose someone who made me feel at home, or gave me the hope that we would be that for each other, I feel like I’m back at sea with no hope of finding the peace I so dearly need in my life. I feel like I’ve lost my way … like I was wandering in an unknown wood thinking that I was just about to crest a ridge and see a way out only to find myself back where I started. I just can’t … I can’t breathe.
That might be the cold I’ve got and the oppressive agony of heartbreak … but still.
I can barely remember when I had a home last and I miss it.