What people don't know

Home.

Home.

This word can mean a lot of different things, like the place you live or where you feel the most secure. It could also be a lot of different things, like your lover or family.

This makes me think of a song, Talk Me Down - Troye Sivan, in this song he described his home as a 'room full of his safest sounds'. This line got me to think about what my home was.

My home is... I don't know really. Is my home the friends I have that I can confide in every time I have a problem. The ones that Pat me on the back and make me feel less unnatural?

Is my home a dark, silent, and barren place. Maybe my home is a place where the silence isn't so suffocating, where I can't feel a million pairs of eyes judging me, and telling me I'm never going to be good enough. Or people being nice just to put up the facade as if nobody can see through it.

Maybe my home can be a place where I am just me. Where I don't have to worry about the labels I'm put under or the expectations held above my head. Where I do not, by any means, have to worry about being the perfect little grey area in between the black and white.

Maybe my home is a place where all of my anxieties don't exist or hold me back. A place where I don't feel like just another waste of space, waiting to be left out or forgotten. Maybe this is a world that seems so far away,

Like an illusion,

Like a dream,

Like my home.