House versus Home

My home has many memories with me, family, and friends. Some I remember, some I forget. My past memories are very special, those memories represent my timeline, my history, I could never let those go, they are just too special for me to forget. Even though there are bad memories I forget about them and move them past me. My home makes me feel relaxed, comfortable, all the positive descriptive words every single second in my life. If something bad happens somewhere, my home can make me comfortable and happy when I lay down in an instant. I love my home like I love my family, I could never let it go. My home is very different from my house. Even though they sound like the same thing, they aren’t. Yes, both of them I can live in and find comfort in, but my home has memories and love in it, my house doesn’t. My house has 4 walls, a roof over my head and a floor. My house can make me feel safe but it doesn’t feel the same as my home, the house feels like a cleaned whiteboard: empty and blank. The house doesn’t have enough memories for me to remember.