It also makes me hate to come home to
But there are things that I hate about being in
I don’t have as much freedom in
And there are things that I love about
Right now, I feel a bit in limbo.
I don’t fully belong anywhere. At home, I am comfortable and safe, but things change without me knowing about it. Rooms get decorated, furniture moved, pets arrive (and go…) all without me. In
I think (I hope) that ‘home’ will be cemented when I settle down. I want to get married and have kids, and I feel sure that doing that will give me a true sense of home. After all, ‘home is where that heart is’ (come on, who could write about home without one cliché?) and where could your heart be more than with your children?
Or I could just be being daft and actually, I will always feel a little bit missing. I sometimes think that having a little bit missing, a corner not quite complete, is the human condition. It makes us who we are. I mean, if life were perfect what would be the point in continuing life? Surely life itself is the struggle to find perfection – hang on, no, scratch perfection, life is the struggle to find completeness. Some people do search for perfection, but I think the right thing to be looking for is contentment in completeness.
And completeness may mean different things to different people. You’ve got to find a level that fits you. For me, 'home' is the completeness I want. A warm place, filled with children and love, what would be my completeness. For others I imagine completeness may be something different – academic, material, creative, religious.
I think what I am trying to say is summed up neatly in this quote, by author Terry Goodkind: