It’s strange being away from school for the weekend, in a house that isn’t full of memories because we haven’t had enough time here to make them. I don’t have all my things with me and I don’t know where all the dishes go and not all the boxes have been unpacked yet.

But there’s apple cider in the kitchen

there’s laughter in the living room

and it’s cozy inside even though the rain is pouring and

somehow this place isn’t so unfamiliar after all.

I thought it would be hard to be away at college while my family moved into a new house, three thousand miles away from our last one. And it was. I thought it couldn’t possibly feel like home to me.

But I don’t know why I worry about these things.

Right now, it feels so good to be with people who care for my heart, who really know me and really love me. And I couldn’t feel more at home, because I’m here with them and they’re my family.

And that’s what home is, after all.