The home I left behind

I went to school and came back to my home. On cold days, my home was warm. The warm air whooshed on my face. My home hugged me the moment I came through those doors. My safe space, the place where everybody loved me, and no one judged me. But I was moving, leaving my friends and my home. I was leaving the place I called home, the same home I made memories in. The home I lived in for 5 years. I was leaving it all behind. I was really sad. I was leaving the home I grew up in. My family and I sold the home and got ready to leave our memories. As I was packing I found old toys and pictures. I remembered celebrating birthdays and holidays. I felt like I could cry a million tears. But I have moved so many times. I know that home is where my family is. It does not have to be warm or happy; It just has to be the community we build and the family that moved all those times with me. It takes time to get a house to turn into a home, but all I need is people I know and who I love. I left all those homes behind, but I never left my family.