And this urge to run away from what I love is a sort of sadism I no longer pretend to understand. SELECTED LETTERS / MARTHA GELLHORN
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They say home is where the heart is. However, despite all the places her heart has been, Claudia Roman has never been able to call anywhere her home.
It's not like she doesn't find solace in anything. For example, not once she has felt anything but freedom while playing tennis, which has been not only her main source of comfort ever since she was just a kid, but also her getaway in moments of distress. It's not like she has no one to run to when she's in need either. In fact, she's been able to form a family of her own around her, who love and care for her deeply. And it's also not like her upbringing was as hard as it could have been. Her childhood house was just that, a house, not a home, but she's still grateful to her aunt for raising her on her own as best she can.
Perhaps then, to an outsider, she might seem a bit greedy. Is that not enough for her? So what else should be considered a home?
Surprisingly, to Claudia, the answer is quite simple: A place where she can run to when her world feels too heavy to carry on her own. She knows a home should feel like that and yet, to her heart, home is not a place where she can run to, but a place she must run from.
