Where is Home?

Over nice coffee conversations, me and my usual coffee mates shared a story about a malaysian guy who went back to his own country for vacation. But, when he came back to his work assignment (which was somewhere in africa I think), he was more than glad. For him, his home country wasn't his "home". It was where his current assignment is, thousand miles away from his own birthplace.

And it kept me a little on amazement -- that people could really be different in reference to home.



Where is home anyway?

Is it where you grew up?

Or is it where you shared your grown self to the people around you?

Is it where you have found your comfort zone, or is it where you were able to succeed in creating your own version of comfort?

Where is home for me?
And here, I am spilling my mind.
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I couldn't deny the fact that for the longest time that I have been out, I had a desperate attempt in "creating" my own version of home. For the sole reason of keeping me sane. I have always been a "comfort zone" person, and I seek for people, for things, for events, that could somehow connect me to the place that I grew up with.
Both the two places I've been to, have succeeded in adapting me into the comforts of its own fences. Though at times, I still feel alienated and different from most people, I have learned, through time, the basic tools for survival. Maybe it helped that I knew myself better, and that I know how and what I need to stay steady and keep my sanity. But at the end of the day, I know that all things boil down to one simple fact -- that, this is not my home.

Home is where I feel safest. It is where I hear the infectious laughter of my beautiful cousin angel, rummaging about little things and asking the funniest questions. Home is where I wake up and finding my cold milo on the table, that has been sitting there for hours. Home is where, during sundays, mommy would cook the most delicious sinigang, and my friends inviting themselves over for a nice lunch over coke and asap. Home is where I could share comfortable silence with anyone, without much effort on what to say. Home is where I see myself dreaming endlessly, and even if I am thousand miles away, my dreams travel the distance.


Having said all these, it doesn't necessarily mean that I am not having the time of my life away from home. I am. And I know that when the final time comes that I would be packing up my luggage, I am certain that I will be coming home with full smiles, knowing that I was able to explore a thousand different events, looked at the sky from a different perspective, heard the waves from a different point of reference.
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Ah, I might have drank a little too much caffeine, or perhaps, I am just a little overwhelmed with the things that's been happening around me. The uncertainties, the surprises, the tests. Yesterday, someone went back home. Soon, one by one, all of us will have to leave this place. And who knows when and where we will see each other again... the finish line? Maybe.

But I am certain, that all of us will find our way back home. Sooner or later. We will.