Home as a Metaphor

If home were a metaphor, it would mean if you dropped something, like a pencil, someone might pick it up for you, helping you. If home were a metaphor, it would be a place where a scar or wound would be healed, figuratively or literally. If home were a metaphor, it would be a place where each person forms an unforgettable memory, or memories everyday. If home were a metaphor, it would mean a place where there is gratitude, where there is trust, honesty, forgiveness, happiness, sadness, angerness or peacefulness. If home were a metaphor, it would mean a place where it feels safe, a place where each person is grateful and appreciates every single day. If home were a metaphor, it might be like a factory of memories, good ones created, like when you are going on vacation, or bad ones, like when you were injured, but they will all be remembered- even bad ones, but bad ones are remembered so we learn, to not let history repeat itself. If home were a metaphor, it would never be a place, a house is a place, there is a difference between house and home: home is a big memory with infinite small memories that goes for generations and generations, a house is where you decide to store those memories for a period of time, or even for a few generations. In conclusion, If home were a metaphor, it might be a book, a really thick one, inside, the memory factory that writes each memory in. Each feeling a word, each day a page, each generation a chapter, each century a book, then, comes book two, and then it goes on and on.