I am longing for the feeling of home,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I do not know where that is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s shattered, ripped to pieces and scattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My college apartment no more. Two years of finally having my own place; decorating, personalizing, inviting friends over, and then after next semester, poof.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I can\u2019t move back into my childhood bedroom. Where the walls and bookshelves are turquoise because I insisted on making everything blue after everything was pink. Where they\u2019re photographs of people I don\u2019t talk to anymore and stuffed animals I\u2019m too attached to throw away. Where there\u2019s junk and trinkets I\u2019ve collected over the years that I can\u2019t even begin to sort through. Where there are clothes I\u2019ll never wear again but for some reason haven\u2019t donated or tossed out. Where there are books I used to spend all night reading, waiting so eagerly to purchase at the bookfair, but now gather dust. Where there are discarded dreams and lost ambitions and broken decisions of a person I no longer recognize. Where nearly all my childhood pets are gone and the house feels empty without them but I still see them, where they should be, lounging on couches, in sunspots, at a bush, chirping as I walk by and I can\u2019t fathom how they\u2019re gone and I\u2019m still here and I\u2019ll still <\/em>be here, years on. Where everyone is still together and no one has left and we\u2019re eating dinner and laughing and tomorrow held such promise and wonder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My parents have gray hairs. They\u2019re wrinkles in their smiles. My dad can\u2019t play tennis as swiftly or eat certain foods because of his cholesterol. My mom doesn\u2019t ride horses like she desires. My stepmom is isolated from her L.A. friends. Will I become them? Will I move out and only see them when I\u2019m in town or for holidays? Will they move and my childhood home will go on the market and be bought by strangers who will change everything and one day I\u2019ll drive by and see a family, a couple, a person watching TV where I played PlayStation, cutting grass where my sister and I had adventures and my friends played The Hunger Games<\/em>, sleeping where I poured my emotions into a journal, eating dinner where I did my homework, living where I grew? Will I move into a new place and start all over again, and again, and again, never fully settling in, a constant state of impermanence, and watch while the one place I love slowly fades and hollows, the years taxing, the memories blurring until it\u2019s just me who\u2019s left?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I visit<\/em> home. I do not stay <\/em>at home. I don\u2019t think I have a home anymore.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I am longing for the feeling of home, but I do not know where that is.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2738,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_uag_custom_page_level_css":"","site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center 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