When my parents moved out of the city where we lived our whole lives, I feel…strange. I was neither sad nor happy.
I feel something is lost (FYI, I live in a different city).
The new place where my parent moved to, I didn’t feel like home.
The old place, not my home anymore.
So where will I go when I want to go home?
It feels like you don’t belong to anywhere.
I didn’t go back to my hometown for a quite long time. I just didn’t have any reason. Who I look for back there?
The emptiness gradually appeared and bigger inside me, replace for what has been lost.
…
Until yesterday when I went back to my hometown to visit my aunt family. My aunt is as my second mother. She cares about me so much since I was a little kid.
She called me when I was on the bus to ask me to have dinner with her family. It reminds me of the times I went back home at the weekends and my parents waited for me to have dinner together. We didn’t do that now.
I almost cried on the bus.
I suddenly realized you have a home when you have someone waiting for you.
This place has always been a part of me. No matter where I go, no matter how much I try to ignore, this is home. This is my childhood.