they say home is a feeling. deep in your belly. one that can accompany you wherever you go. i guess that is feeling at home within yourself. that is knowing that you have a home inside you that no one can ever take away.
i wish i could say i always felt that. always felt that home.
home may be new york. i see the skyline and i calm. i know the streets. i know the running paths. i know the parks. that feels like my home.
home may be the apartment i live in. maybe. it feels more like home now than it did before. or maybe it is just a different home now since a person is gone and the furniture is moved around. it took time and work for it to feel like home, but now it does and when i come in i feel calm.
home used to be in the arms of the one i loved and i wonder if heartbreak is also about losing that home. today i don't miss that home.
home may just be the dog, the pup. he may be the heart in the phrase "home is where your heart is". i can feel like home if he is with me.
sometimes i think home is water, anytime i'm by the water.
other times home is evasive. and no matter where i am, i can't seem to find her.
sometimes i don't want to go home, whichever home it may be. i want to run away from home. i want to leave home. i never want to come back.
sometimes i feel like i am looking for new homes in new cities, in new people. today i am in LA and i see palm trees and i wonder if they could be a sign of home one day.
sometimes i read a book and think, living in this book, i am home. sometimes writing a play, i feel like i am home. sometimes a song makes me feel at home. can home be those things too?
i miss home as i sit in this hotel room, but i'm not sure which home i mean.
(this is day two of april love, a month of letters and pictures)