I've said goodbye to my two homes this past month.
What is home?
The place I always end up coming back to, prepared or unprepared.
The place not many in my life know but me.
A place of physical comfort, stillness, rest and unconditional love.
A refuge from distraction, from myself, from those who impact me.
A place that holds all the people I love in one place as I venture out.
A place to reassess.
But now it's time for everyone to venture out, not only me.
And so, the home I knew and loved is broken into tiny pieces.
Where each person in each place holds a piece of nostalgia.
And the physical becomes metaphoric
And the memories are no longer held under one roof, but many around the world.
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