Missing Home

Is it possible to miss somewhere you’ve never been, something you’ve yet seen?

Home is not just a residence.  Especially to someone who boarded at school and with relative for years and moved on average once a year in 8 years since high school.  Home is not just a roof over my head, although it’s really nice to have that.  Home is not just a city.  It’s a strange feeling to call a town home when all the interior you’ve grown up with is changed and you no longer live in it for more than half your life now.  Although I can still find reminisce of the aging past that revive the smells of the summer storms from my childhood, and just let it soak.

The city and the places still take a special corner in my heart.  They were journeys to Home.  But Home is a sense of belonging.  It is an existence where I am found in the place I came from, where I’ve always belonged whether I know it or not, and with whom I belong to & loved by, all at the same time.   It’s a place I have not been and yet to see, but I know it well.


What do you miss?

Where is your home?


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