The time when I first walked into the band lot,
My mind was buzzing with thoughts.
Excited of all the possibilities that can come from this;
Shows,
Dedication,
Memories.
Or worse possibilities;
Injuries,
Pain,
Pressure
But it was just a parking lot.
A parking lot that held cars most of the year,
A parking lot with a bunch of stripes on it.
Why did I see shows, dedication, and memories from just a simple space?
I don't know.
But that is what I see from it now.
I spent hundreds of hours on that "simple space with stripes"
I miss those burning hot days of repeating the same things over and over and over again.
I don't know why.
Maybe it was because I had a passion.
Even if it was on something as dorky (or cool however you see it) as marching band.
Or maybe it was because I made a family.
Not a family that loves you unconditionally
But a family that chose to love you.
Yes it was because of the family I made.
They still loved me even if I never said a word to them.
They still accepted me even if I sucked at everything and was clumsy.
I don't know why.
But in that parking lot, we practiced so hard and worked so hard that we got close together.
I don't know how.
Even if they yelled commands over and over again,
I felt at home,
I felt calm,
I felt happy.
It may not have its own address,
But I will call it my home.
