Home.

I moved a lot. So, home was never really a place for me. It was people.

When I went to college, I left people behind. Slowly, they all moved away until no one was left in our little high school town.

Now, when I go back, and I walk along those little downtown streets, I feel like an outsider. I feel like that place never really belonged to me. Even though I spent four years there.

I see those friends, the people who feel like home, if I'm lucky, every three months. And I can't shake the feeling that I no longer have a home.

They kept living and so did I. We made new lives for ourselves. We found a new home in roommates and partners and friends.

But, no matter how much time passes, they always feel the most like home to me. Even if we don't spend every spare weekend together anymore.

They still remind me of ice cream and laughter and warmth. They still remain the people who loved me first. And I guess, that will always mean they are home to me.