Feels Like Home

I grew up about 45 minutes away from where I currently live. I was born and raised in my hometown. I lived there until I was 22 years old. The only reason I left was to come up here and live with Master. We were engaged at the time. (Yes, we got engaged before we started living together.) So anyway, up I came. We lived together for two years before we were married. So in total, I've lived up here for 6 years. So 6 years versus 22 years.

I still know parts of my hometown like the back of my hand. There are certain parts that are unchanging and I'm glad that they haven't changed. They were my favorite parts of my hometown. But other parts... there is nothing familiar about them. So I think that may have something to do with it not really feeling like home anymore. I mean it will always be my hometown, and who knows where the future may take Master and I. It may take us to His hometown, or mine. But for now, our home is here.

I really like the area. Everything we need is very close. Within 5 minutes drive time we have two grocery stores, a Walgreens, two gas stations, a dollar store (hush you can find some good stuff at a dollar store) and several fast food joints just in case we feel like something quick and easy. Our bank is at most a 10 minute drive away. Like I said, everything we need is very close to our home. We're spoiled because of it. Whenever we talk about moving we start to ask ourselves if this store is close by, or that store. Like I said, we're spoiled. My job is 45 minutes away, but I do not want to live out by my job. We've talked about it in the past, but eventually both of us agreed that it would be a bad idea. The cost of living out there is much higher.

We want to eventually move out of this apartment. It's not really the apartment that feels like home to me, but the area itself. To me it doesn't really matter what you live in. It could be a house, an apartment, a condo, a trailer.. you get the idea. It's the area that matters. I moved several times in my hometown. It was never the house or apartment I lived in. It was the area surrounding me.

I don't know if that has something to do with the fact that the house I grew up in was foreclosed on when my father left to go live with another woman. He was the bread winner and my mom couldn't afford the two mortgage payments. So they foreclosed on the house. I used to think of that house as my home. I lived in it from the age of 5 until I was 17. That was home. But as soon as I realized that no matter what you live in, it can be taken away. From that point forward I decided that it was the area that mattered. I sometimes pass the house I grew up in and I'll look at it. I have some memories that run through my head, not all of which are happy ones. But that's it. It's nostalgia. Nothing more. It's not home. Never really was. It wasn't the house that mattered.

I'm sure that one day Master and I will move out of this apartment but we already know we'll be staying right around where we are now if we can help it. There are several condo complexes near by as well as townhouses only a little bit further away. Not to mention that there are other apartments and then of course the houses. We'll stay in the area because Master and I have made it our home.