Following the wind

I have concluded that this summer I have spent almost 24 hours on a plane and that's not even including my 12 hour plane ride to get back home. Which may I inform you will be soon! I'm finally getting to go home, but can I really call it home? I've been thinking about that word a lot lately- home. Home as a noun has more then 10 definitions.

1. A place where one lives; a residence.

2. The physical structure within which one lives, such as a house or apartment.

3. A dwelling place together with the family or social unit that occupies it; a household.

4.

   a. An environment offering security and happiness.

   b. A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.

5. The place, such as a country or town, where one was born or has lived for a long period.

6. The native habitat, as of a plant or animal.

7. The place where something is discovered, founded, developed, or promoted; a source.

8. A headquarters; a home base.

9.

   a. Baseball Home plate.

   b. Games Home base.

10. An institution where people are cared for: a home for the elderly.

11. Computer Science

   a. The starting position of the cursor on a text-based computer display, usually in the upper left corner of the screen.

   b. A starting position within a computer application, such as the beginning of a line, file, or screen or the top of a chart or list.

 

Now all of these definitions are correct, but when I think of the word home def. number 4 pops into my head. A place where I feel happy, safe, comfortable. I used to think that was with my family. My home. It didn't matter where I was as long as I was with my family, but now it's different. I can't help but want to escape from my family. Hide from them and disappear after I finish college and move out. I'm not sure if it's just a faze, but that's what I've been feeling. I feel as if I'll never grow up or learn to be responsible unless I have to care for myself. As long as I have to depend on my parents in some way I'll always be a child. 

 

It frustrates me so much and at this moment I can't help but feel like I'm being held back, but by who I'm not sure. It could be my parent's, my brother, my situation or myself. I want to open up and change, but I know I can't do that now- be selfish. Now I have to play the part of a good daughter, even if I'm not playing it perfectly. Just smile and try to hide the darkness in your eyes. Pretend that everything is ok, even if it's not, because that's life. 

 

I've noticed that I have been saying a phrase to people a lot lately. I'm not sure where I got it from or if it's my own personal type of philosophy, but it goes like this- "Life has to be tough or else it'll be boring." I wonder how many people could agree with this, but lately this is what keeps me moving towards my goal- to find my home. 

 

My goal in life right now is to find my place in the world. I'm looking for something that will make me feel like I'm important, needed, wanted. I want to desperately search for this place called home. Whether it's a person, a club, a group of people, a house, a certain town or country it could be anything. It doesn't have to be physical, just someplace I can feel happy and not just content, because that's all I feel occasionally contentedness. Although I've given myself a time limit for this self-centered  purpose of mine. If I am unable to find what I am looking for by the time I reach my golden birthday, well by the end of that year I think I'll be done. You could call this the cowards way to go or giving up, but I don't really care. I'm just tired and my will is weak.

Guess, I'll see ya around.