Home.

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I’m not completely sure that I understand this prompt. Am I supposed to have a home that is unlike the homes of others? My childhood home? My home now? I mean, I haven’t really had a ‘home’ in a good 6 years since moving out of my parent’s house. I guess you can say that I realize my home is unlike others in that I don’t really have one. I haven’t had a bed at my parent’s house in years, so when I do go ‘home’, I slept on the floor. Though recently, there has been one placed in my ‘room’.

Maybe my home was different because my mom let me paint a tree on my wall in my room. My other friends’ parents wouldn’t let them paint their rooms anything but white or another solid color.

I’m living in a hostel right now. That is my ‘home’. Its unlike the home of others because they stay in hostels to visit. To see new places. To have new experiences. Me? I go there to live. To sleep and then to shower and go to work in the morning. My stuff is there. I share a room with 5 others. That is my home right now.

This prompt also got me to thinking about homes and people I know. I have friends who are married and buying homes. Setting up permanent or semi-permanent residences with their significant others in a city where they know they will be for two, three, six years. Me? That scares me. Sure a ‘home base’ would be nice, but I don’t want to BUY one. That is too permanent to me. I don’t know where I want to live for the next year and a half let alone live long enough to pay off a mortgage.

I guess I have a different perception of home or a different feeling when I think about what home would be. They see it as somewhere they come home to every night for years. To watch TV and hang out with their husband, wife, girlfriend. Me? Again. I live in a hostel.

Home, to me, is wherever I feel like sleeping that night.

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