What is Home?

The concept of "home" has become ambiguous to me after being away for so long. Each time I return, I'm haunted by an indescribable feeling. I've told friends I don't get homesick, only to admit missing home the very next day. Yet, I'm not sure what exactly I miss. Being home doesn't even fill the void I feel.

When asked if I'm excited to go home, I confess to feeling anxious instead. It's as if I'm heading towards a place that no longer exists. Am I searching for a physical location? People? Memories? Or perhaps just a feeling? The meaning of "home" has become elusive, leaving me questioning what I truly seek.

Strangely, I felt at home when we talked. Your warm voice, your gaze, the attention and care you gave, and your compassion all felt like a warm hug I hadn't experienced in a long time. Yet, I was scared. The comfort was so intense that I felt compelled to run away. I believed comfort would make me weak, that chasing my dreams meant struggling alone, and that going far from home would be best for my growth. So I left you. For that, I am deeply sorry.

To this day, I still carry the warmth you gave me. I've nurtured it and shared it with others. I realized that even if I can't be home, I could become the home that others may long for, just as you were for me. Sometimes I miss your warm embrace, but I know that warmth lives within me. I believe that sharing it with others helps me rekindle it.

Despite everything, I doubt I'll ever be quite like you. When I looked at you, how you expressed gratitude effortlessly and savoured each moment made me realise how broken I was. I've always lived in the future, so it was always amazing to see how you could ground yourself in the present. If I could begin to be half as good as you are, I feel I could do about anything—even learn how to love.

To you, who offered a home I didn't know I needed and the comfort I didn't deserve; thank you, and I'm sorry. I'm doing my best not to waste what you gave me. I strive to be my own home and eventually a home to others, just as you are now for the family you've built.