Bittersweet Home

Everybody should have one, and in various ways everyone does.

All of us have different interpretations about it and feelings that make this definition complicated. Experiences and lifestyle can effect it, and can make you cynic or very attached to it, raising you in so many different ways.

Most consider home the place where you were born and grew up, such as small city with too much traffic, where people buy newspapers only on the weekend and the smell of food escapes from the window. That place where there are buses which never come, few clothing shops always full of people, and the corner just down the street where you meet your friends every evening, when there is nothing interesting on TV.

Home can be the street where you walk every morning to go to school, the bakery where you always hope to stop by but you never do it because you had breakfast at home, classrooms with not enough tables or chairs and guys who wonder all the time why they are studying, because they won’t be able to find a job and have a future on their island, so it’s easier to go volunteer in Iraq.

The soccer match on Saturday night, espresso and cornetto on Sunday morning can be your home. An apartment on the fourth floor where the walls are so thin that you can hear your neighbors in the bathroom, an elevator where you saw yourself growing up and being able to press all the buttons, and that gave you the idea the you were going to be able to do whatever you wanted cause you were tall, you are an adult now, and can do everything.

All the summer nights spent playing cards with your sisters, your stuffed animals that become dusty, tea and cookies for breakfast and you always late to make dinner for your family.

Home can be a song that brings you to tears.

Home can be your bedroom, your way to escape from everything else, your window that shows you how small you are and where you send all your prayers from, to be strong, to be good.

It’s your home if you know who is looking for you just from the knock on the door, and you paint the wall because you read that color helps you not to have nightmares. Your sheets smell of laundry detergent and the pictures on the wall make you think about the past, so you play your favorite music and lay down in bed pretending not to hear people screaming next door.

Home can be the smell that you dream of all the winter and that finally you can breath, the sun on your skin and the sand under your feet, the light wind, your red nose when you come back home. Waves noise, salted flavor on your lips, kids running around and beautiful sea where you whish you could swim always, be part of it, never forget it.

Home is something that you miss when you are away, and that hurts even more when you don’t, when you have bitter memories about it.

Sometimes it’s something that you dream about. Sometimes it’s your family. Sometimes it’s your friends. Sometimes you are your family and your friends, and your home becomes a pet waiting for you in the basement.

When everything around you runs so fast, and you need to change, but maybe you are scared and not ready, and you change anyway, home becomes something very small inside of you, something powerful that you are not able to explain, something more than space and time. So, home can be a city far away, a stranger language, stranger people, beautiful trees with gold and fire colors in the fall. New experiences, new energies, new hopes for your future. A very cold place in the winter, especially for the people who don’t have a home. A tall tower that surprises you every time you see it. An empty apartment, a mattress on the floor and two suitcases.

Stranger streets can be familiar to you if you are not familiar to yourself, and you can feel at home even if you have around things that you didn’t use to, a stranger person beside you, and even if there is no space for pictures on the wall, but just small stars that tell you every night that everything will be ok.

Home is objects and memories, smells, hopes, a soft pillow where you hope to sleep every night. It’s a future dream, like a smile that tells you have something, you are someone. It can be a place where you hope to come back to, or a brand new start; it can be the world.

So maybe, it doesn’t matter where you are from, where you are right now, where your life is taking you: if you are happy you will always feel at home.©

Let me know what”s home for you!

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