13 reasons why

There are 50 states is the US. I've been to almost all of them and all I can say is, they've never been home. Home is not a bed or a street you lay your head on. Home is not a house, Home is a person. This person makes you feel safe and secure,warm and welcome. This person is home. My home is far from the place I live. But, once upon a time, I thought a house was a home. The years growing up, before I moved to my current town, they weren't the best. I remember sitting at the top of the stairs and crying. Crying for not my own selfishness but, for the love I felt for my mother. On the _th year of my life I grew up watching a man hit a woman. The yelling and crying was just a blocking sound for the noise of skin on skin. The 'what if's' still travel through my thoughts. If I could've changed one thing from my past it would've been that. That I would've been brave enough to do something. In all honesty I would've used myself to block his fists from pounding on my mom. I wish I would've called the cops, told him to stop, but all I did was sit in fear and sorrow. We've moved on from the subject, we're far into the future but, I can't forget my cowardliness.  My actions were normal for any 4th grader but, I secretly wish I wasn't any normal 4th grader. I never felt that house to be a home and now, I know why.
       Being with this man for another year killed me. He did stop hitting my mom but, he made the pain she felt so much worse. He found another lover and made his current relationship into an affair. Saying he 'only ever loved' my mother when they were together was just complete crap. He might have loved my mother at some point in their horrible relationship but, he surely did not love her often. He also did not only love her. This man cheated on her several times before and after we moved. After his new lover came into play he finally left my mom. He was not dignified enough to just leave her with an apology or a less painful good-bye. He left her heartbroken and horribly confused. That is when I fully understood. When I finally noticed that, a home is not a house. My grandma lived with us and she was a wonderful woman who truly loved every gift that came her way. After she moved, I felt as if I had lost my other half.  Though she was so far away, I still felt as if I needed her attention and warmth constantly. I've always loved her hugs and I enjoyed her company. When she moved I saw my mom crushed. It was sad. At that moment I knew that my grandma was our home.