home is (part 1)

Home has been on my mind a lot this week. The idea of home. The physical entity of home. Who and what it means.

Over the years, the idea of home for me has changed a lot. It's developed and grown to mean a lot of things now. To help you understand what I'm talking about, this is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite movies, Garden State (if you haven't watched it, seriously go watch it this weekend).

You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone. 

You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place. 

Two years ago, I had been living on my own at UCLA for a year. And then this quote clicked in my head. Going home never felt the same anymore. My dorm room felt like home to me. Going back to my parent's house was strange. My bed was still there, my family was still there, but stepping through the door just felt like stepping into a really familiar place, just not quite home.

I've realized now that home is a lot of things. It's not just a physical place that you live in. It's an emotion, an abstract concept, something that can only be explained once you feel it.

Home for me is coming back to my apartment after a really long day and getting greeted with "WELCOME HOME!" by my four (or five? or six?) roommates.

Home is falling into my bed after a rough day.

Home is the smell of my mom's amazing home-cooked meals that drifts into every crevice of the house.

Home is sinking into a hug from someone who can make my biggest worries feel like nothing.

Home is finding a new friend and feeling like I've known them since forever.

Home is spending time with someone, no matter what I'm doing, and never wanting the moment to slip away.

Home is a big, hot bowl of pho waiting for me to devour.

Home is the funny face or glance that I give to someone that's returned back.

Home is screaming with my roommates about toilets bubbling, coffee machines breaking, apartments falling apart, and all the other crazies in between.

As I go home for the holidays, these are the kinds of thoughts that race through my mind.

What's home for you?