And when you’re trying to find your way back to your place, I hope your GPS somehow leads you to my driveway.
When home is a person, you never feel alone or out of place.
It is hard to know what the future holds; where we will be years from now. What I do know is that the well-known saying, “Home is where the heart is,” rings truer and truer to me as each year passes.
As a traveler, where I’ve been isn’t half as important as where I’m going.
The truth is they aren’t anti-social. They just have different priorities.
Home once used to be a place, not
just the absence of memory.
I fought my battles. I discovered myself. I learned to fill up the holes your absence burned in me. I lived. All without you.
When one place is all you’ve ever known, you become comfortable with the familiar. Fear of the unknown creeps into your thoughts and convinces you that you want to stay, succumbing to the predictable pattern of generations before you.
You’re no longer the space that holds me together, you’re the empty walls that tear me apart.
Maybe it’s about letting go of all the things you want to run away from, of all the things that are holding you down. Maybe you’ll find your place when you learn to stay instead of running away.