I just spent a few days at my parents. I took a stroll through the park that I always used to walk and it doesn’t feel the same. It’s not my home anymore. I passed a boy (now almost a man) who, when i lived there, was a chubby kid and now he’s all grown up has something similar to a beard (not really a beard) and is jacked. I saw some more familiar faces but they are all different. I enjoyed the walk, but it felt like a visit.
Nothing has changed at my parents home since I moved to another city, well just a few new things but nothing major, but I felt like a guest there. And i thought to myself, when did these walls that i spend around two decades at, stopped being my home? I still remember when I used to come back there all the weekends when I was a student, back then it still was my home. Maybe it all changed when I rented an apartment. But it’s rent! I don’t own it and I’m even forced to move soon. Given the situation, I came to a though, Do I even have a home?
Maybe some of us who rent don’t have a home at all. We might be living somewhere and feel comfortable there but at any moment we can be evicted. It’s scary to know that you don’t own anything, that you can’t change this or that in the place you live because in reality it’s not yours. Given the situation when will I truly have a home that I can change to my liking? Or will I never be able to make something my own? I guess only the future will tell and in the meantime my home will be where my loved one is.