Home: is where love is, where Wi-Fi connects automatically, where you feel home. Home is in your arms. I would have never thought, that after calling so many places home, I would crave the feeling of home so much. It is said that people change and they adapt to anything that they enounter. So have I. Whether I was in a different continent, whether it was different people I called friends and bros and sisters, I always managed to create the feeling of home. So whenever I think of the places I have left, I always feel a fuzzy feeling.
To me, home is a place where time has stopped. There are two places I call home. Whenever I think about it, I cannot help but wonder if it is two different me that lived in those places. Because isn't it strange to have more than one place to call home? My first home is definitely where my parents are. They have not really moved from that place from the past 25 years, but any place they go really, to me will always feel home because that's where their love will always prosper. Being blessed to have such loving parents, I do feel a little bit of a guilt when I admit that there is a second place I call home. No person will ever be able to give me as much love as they've given me.
But the second home, it's a place where I gave love. I received love, a lot of it; so much that I sometimes it was just a dream. I think it's very easy to give love to strangers, mainly because they are strangers. Strangers do not expect much from you, so anything you give them comes a little as a surprise. Strangers do not share out much either, so whenever you receive something, you cannot help but want to give more in return because you'd like them to feel that same awesome feeling of connecting with someone.
That was how I stumbled upon this second place I now call home. In a setting where everyone has their own story, I grew up to become more undestanding, I grew up each day to understand the importance of giving even if 1mg of love. They say love is something you cannot measure. I think you can, it's just that everyone's way of measuring is a little different. This place where I left piece of me.
Take a piece of my heart
And make it all your own
So when we are apart
You'll never be alone
I left it because there were people I loved with all my heart. And I also left for the my very selfsih reason of having an actual reason to go back to that place. People change, and so do promises. Worrying if I would ever have a place to go back to, I left a piece of myself. I took a piece of it with me as well in case I might never be able to go back.
After leaving my second home, at first, I rarely tried to think of how I labeled it home. I felt that remembering of how it was home to me would only bring those good memories back. You know, I am a very sentimental person. I tend to cry a lot too, especially when I read, see or think of touching things. I never tried to bring the memories back. I only tried keeping the feeling of home close to me.
I labeled other places home as if trying to cover up for something that was missing inside of me. I tried to be part of something that I maybe did not feel so strong about so that I could convince myself I was moving forward. I also tried forgetting about it; I call it the denial stage.
Then I came up to terms, with the fact that memories are memories because they are kept dear in someone's heart.
You'll never be alone
When you miss me close your eyes
I may be far but never gone
When you fall asleep tonight just remember that we lay under the same stars
And then it just so happens, that my own self decided that for some reason, it would be impossible for me to go back to that place, to the people I called precious to me.
It took me quite a while to understand that stopping my time, was not helping anyone. My second home, had not changed much, but it's time had gone forward. That was when my selfish self understood that had hurt the ones precious to me trying to stay away from them in the hope that I would miss them less. I missed them even more, and when the clock resumed, I missed them like crazy.
After apathy, overflowing energy comes pouring and I had no idea what to do with it honestly speaking.
Right now it's pretty crazy
And I don't know how to stop or slow it down
So, to make up for the lost time, I did more than I could take on me, which has made me now bedridden, reason why I have the time to write this post which I would otherwise never have the courage to write. At least, I can be honest when I am sick.
Second home, I wish I could be with you now. I wish could be there and wake up that same rountine: even if it did not contribute much to my personal growth, it made my heart much bigger, and happier. I wish I could hug all the people I called second mom, dad, uncle, aunt or friends. Because I felt that I was accepted and loved, I have always wanted to give back the same amount of love, but the coward me decided to run away. I am not running away anymore. I will not run away from anything else in the future either.
One day, I promise I will come back. When I come back, it won't be for staying long. When I come back, I want to spend my time hugging the ones precious to me, telling them stories of my boring present and how hard I am working to make it a present for which they can be proud of. I know they always are, but I would never feel good about if I was not proud of it to being with. Until I reach that day, I will continue to make many more memories I can share with you so that we can spend countless mornings talking about them with a hot cup of coffee and a fresh doughnat. If the day I come it's around my birthday, then we'll definitely make up for all the missed birthdays with a huge strawberry shortcake.
I do understand now, that I never was, and never will be alone.