My Home

What is a home to me? Well, for a long time I didn't know what that meant. I didn't know what it felt like to have one. I was looking in the wrong places for what it meant to have a home. In fact, I thought, why would I need a home when you already have a house? I thought that no one cared that they would never care. And that I should beat myself up for it. I was completely ignoring the love and kindness my home was giving to me, what they were always giving to, because my home always was there. I was just looking in the wrong places. Now whenever I think of the word home, I see the glowing silhouettes of the people that care about me the most. The ones I know care about me. Beyond Infinity. Like the light in the darkness and. The light always guides you back home, no matter the circumstance. I love the way my home makes me feel while I'm in it. When I'm out of my home, I feel lost, scared, empty, and unheard. When I'm in home, it feels like all my fears and worries just fade away. In my home, I am found. In my home, I'm fearless. In my home, I am full, In my home I am heard. In my home, I belong. To conclude my original question on what it meant to have a home, where is my home? To those questions, I say my home is wherever my family is. If they lived in an apartment, there would be my home. If they lived in a mansion, there would be my home. Even if they lived on the moon or on the streets, there would be my home too. My home is my family and my family forever.