I told you I was going traveling, didn’t I? Backpacking through Europe? (If you haven’t heard about it, check out About Longing. I’m pretty sure I mentioned it there!) Now it’s already been a while since then (Boy, doesn’t time fly?) and I have managed around, safe and sound! For the really first time in my life, I heard myself saying home, sweet home – and mean it to 110 percent! I mean, it’s nice to get away; but home will always be home. No matter how tired you think you’ll get at it!
Because Beautifuls, I was sick of home. Real sick. Yet when I crossed the border to familiar land again and I started to recognize the countryside outside the window, it was like one of the most magical views I had ever seen. Turned out I’d missed it anyways!
Interestingly enough, I seem to be thinking it’s easier for me to feel homesick than for other people. Traveling around, I’ve come to see how lucky I am, living in a nice house in a safe neighborhood and everything. After seeing these less nice houses and not so safe neighborhoods, it’s like it’s only logical for me to miss home. But is that really what it is about? Money? I’m not sure. I saw the nicest houses and the safest neighborhoods as well, and I still wanted to open the front door to my house when I got home!
You see, home won’t stop being home just like that. Home won’t stop being home because something’s changed, because it’s poor or dirty, or because a war broke out and the house has been razed to the ground. Home won’t stop being home just because you’re safer some place else, or because others may afford a nicer lifestyle than you. Home might not even stop being home even if you’d fall in love with a new city and decide to move there. Because when you return to whichever corner you grew up in, you’re gonna smell that smell. You’re gonna feel that atmosphere, remember those memories and relive the old days just as if it would have been yesterday.
There is something special about the first place we got to know, something that always will bee in our hearts. No time, war, poverty or change could take the feeling of finally coming home away. Home will always be home, and while one part of me says: “Oh, crap”, the other part just loves it!
But home isn’t all about the floors and the walls; home is where your heart is. So the question is, where is your heart? ♥︎
Run with peace,