Thoughts On Going Home

Today is the beginning of June. It has been just about a month since I made some life changing decisions and things are starting to settle. Well, maybe settle isn’t the necessarily the word I want to use but it’s the best word I have for now. On April 29th, I put in my two week notice for the job I had been at for over two years and on the same day I gave my apartments notice that I would be moving out at the end of the month. And the end came.

On Thursday night I packed up the rest of my belongings, turned in my keys and began my journey home again. Although the drive was easy enough, arriving home was far worse. That is not to say I am ungrateful to have a place to lay my head. However, this place is not my home anymore. This is where I grew up, sure. Every corner of this house filled with a memory or two. But home isn’t always about that. Home is more than four walls and a roof and I’ve been struggling a lot to come to terms with that this week. So much so that I wrote a poem about it. Would you believe it?

Home (poem)

I’m convinced this room is smaller
Than it was before I left
Or maybe I’ve stopped living
A life’s that’s so compressed

I guess it’s not about square footage
That makes a house a home
Because these walls are too confining
For the life around these bones

I’ve spent years and miles searching
For condos, lofts and farms
But nothing seems as right
As my place within your arms

Now, I know what you’re thinking. That’s a poem about a person. But it’s not. Well it appears to be. But that’s only because it felt right. I’m still a lonely spinster and probably will be for all of enternity, but I don’t mind. It’s a good life for a poet. But I digress.

Home is not where you sleep at night. It is not the perfect kitchen. It is not a large backyard. Home is what your heart longs for after an emotionally trying day. It is what you dream of at night. It’s what you write in your poetry and songs. Maybe home is 1,700 miles away, or maybe it’s only 120 miles. As of now, I am not sure where home is for me but I will find it soon enough.

For those of you unsure of your future or what there is for you, know that it is never too late to go home. And until you know what home is for you, I am happy to lend shelter. All you need to do is ask.


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