Home is an interesting concept, one that I’ve been confused about for the majority of my life. I’ve never really been attached to physical places—I’ve lived in six different houses now, not including my dorm at school. Like many, I define home as where my family lives. And like many, the definition of home has shifted since moving away from my family, to a new environment full of new people and new friends.
Eventually, these new people and new friends created an environment quite similar to that of “home”—these friends have seen me at my best and my worst. They’re the first ones to celebrate a successful exam or completed project with me. They’re inside my room when I’m stressed out or too sick to function. They’re there to cook with me, eat with me, and talk to me about my day. They’ve created a new home for me, but I now view home as a word that can describe multiple locations (why didn't I realize that sooner?? unclear.)
I’m moving back into my dorm tomorrow, and it feels like going home. I have elaborate plans for laminate flooring, floor beds, and coffee tables, but we’ll see how that all pans out. Summer is coming to a slow close, but I’m excited to go home.