The Meaning of Home...

A home for me is somewhere I can feel safe. A place I go to see my family, or a place I can play games. A place I can bring my friends, and show them all my stuffies. A place where I can sleep without worry, or cry without being embarrassed. I can see all my things at home, my plushies, my trinkets, my crafts. Or a place to hug my cats. A house is a place to go, an undiscovered world of things you could do. A place someone could make their home. A building you can shelter in, a place that's yet to be filled with coziness and happiness. A house isn’t a home yet, it doesn’t have that vibe. A hominess that has yet to be made, still empty like a fridge without food just ready to be filled. Last year I got diagnosed with ADHD, when I was taking the test I was just thinking that those questions were right and that I could almost relate to the page. It’s hard to think of what to write here, but relaxing at the same time, like letting my problems leak out of me. I take medication now, every day and it's been much easier to do things, like to focus and to even start doing things. When I crochet for instance, I can actually finish the project instead of starting and never finishing it. I still use fidget toys but that's not a problem, I got a lot but I still get more! My Dad and my brother did too, me and my brother argue much less now that we are all on meds. I think that there is a big difference between a house and a home. They can both be meaningful but they also aren’t.