It isn’t a bed to sleep in or a roof over my head. That I’ve always had.

Home is a feeling.

It is strong, but not overwhelming.
It gives me comfort and makes me feel safe.
It’s a sense of belonging.

I haven’t had a home for so long, I’ve almost forgotten what it’s actually like.

But I know I might be lucky enough to feel it again someday.
It is what has kept me going when I’ve been just about ready to give up.

Home is what makes every other battle worth fighting.

Home is my dream, my goal.
My happily ever after.

I know what’s missing from my life. What I want.
But how do I plan out something that isn’t really in my control?

Maybe it’s easier not knowing what you’re missing sometimes.

Yes. It’s obvious. 
Knowing that I’m leaving Perth in a day is making me sad.

paint my page

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