Homesick Without a Home

As the semester is coming to an end, I find myself getting more and more anxious for the summer that lies ahead. Mom is officially in Illinois, and I am officially unsure as to where I will end up come mid-May.

I didn’t give much thought to it when I found out that mom was moving back to where she’s from, but my therapist has really got me thinking.. What is home now?

I’ve been feeling homesick for a home that no longer exists to me, and my mind has been trying to put the pieces together for a few months.

It’s times like these that really make you think hard. Why do I care so much about something that should have no value to me anymore?

So what is home?

Home can be a place. It can be the theatre that you grew up in and the laughs and memories within it. It can be the park that you and your friends snuck out to at 3 am to lay on the merry-go-round and watch the sky. It can be the open fields that you raced through on a gulf cart with your best friend each day, laughing as the dog ran beside you trying to jump in each chance he got. It can be the room that you spent most of your time in searching for the perfect songs, and practicing the thing you love endlessly. It can be the little coffee shop on the corner of the busy street that runs through the middle of town. The one that you go to whenever you're back because you know you'll see the people you missed when you were gone.

Home can be a feeling. It can be the warm sun hitting your skin as you lay on the sand in the summer talking about all the things you want to accomplish before school starts again. It can be the feeling of your stomach dropping as you drive over endless hills on the roads you know like the back of your hand. It can be a comforting hug from all the people you have grown to love in such a short amount of time. It can be the wet jeans sticking to your legs from running away from the crashing ocean waves. It can be the heat building up in your cheeks as you try not to cry when you inevitably have to say goodbye again.

Home can be a smell. Something that transports you back to the best times in your life. The smell of crayons and the coloring pages that are now used as stress relief. Sea Island Cotton perfume and how you can recognize that smell anywhere. Musty rooms reminding you of all the show choir competitions and days backstage when you felt like you were part of something far greater than yourself. Cinnamon and how it reminds you of the the fiery red-head that you watched grow up and become family. Essential oils and how each scent holds a different memory to you now.

Home can be a person. It can be your best friend that you haven’t seen for months but every time you call them, it feels like you saw them yesterday. It can be the teacher that always watches out for you, even if they aren’t really your teacher anymore. It can be the people who took you under their wing because they see so much of themselves in you that it hurts. It can be the group of new friends that you have established for yourself, each one reminding you of someone you love back where you came from. It can be the people that you go to when you just want to cry.. Because they do it with you.

Home doesn’t have to be a home. It can be many things. So when I say I’m homesick, I mean I’m homesick for all of these things that made my house, that town, a home.

As the semester is coming to an end, I find myself getting more and more anxious for the summer that lies ahead. Not just because I don’t know where I’ll end up, but because I don’t want to leave behind the home that I have spent so long building for myself.