Finding home

I went home last year empty. I’ve grown attached to the people and place. But just like most places I’ve been to, people move on eventually. Good memories stay. 

From years of being located from one place to another, my context of home has changed to dormitories, apartments, and boarding houses I’ve spent years living in. That I refused to invest in too much furniture knowing I would be leaving again for sure. 

I got better at leaving and meeting new ones but grew tired of the fact that most of them don’t stick around. Which made me realize to better focus on the connections I already had. Forming connections if not intentional can be tedious but I still try from time to time. A genuine connection is almost too rare but if there are I am still in touch with them for years. 

There is a gaping hole and emptiness when you do not know what you are looking for. Or it is happiness that we all want. It is not readily known what kind of home we’ll have. But I know that home is made by two people. Anyone and anywhere we feel contented and at peace can be considered home. And I have not found mine yet.