the paint cracks when the water leaks

I've thought a lot about "home" the last month or so. Not my home, but what the word "home" means. 

And I don't know.

Home typically connotes this:

And now this:

"Home" used to mean a building. The house I grew up in, for example.

Bridian drew this. She did a dang good job.

Based off this. Really though.

Where we did things like this:

And now the "building" definition of home looks like this:

My attempt at a drawing. Yes, just boxes.

My "home" location has changed so many times. Individually, I've moved so many times. By my sophomore year of college, I felt a little bit lost not feeling like I had a home base. And it's been a little bit of a struggle for me. Of course I had my immediate family, but that changed. And where I spent most of my time changed. And I stopped feeling like I "belonged" somewhere specific. Of course I "belonged" with my family. But I haven't lived in their house for years. As a missionary, of course there's a mission "home" but the missionaries don't actually live there. In college, I never stayed in the same apartment for more than three semesters. I felt at home with people I loved, but never really in a specific place.

But "home" means more than family. "Feeling at home" means you feel safe, you feel confident enough, without trying, to be the truest you. And sometimes that changes faces.

And while there are some constant faces, I have some new ones. And they're changing my definition of "home."

There are many new faces, but this one in the middle is what inspired this thought process.

She and I don't have any pictures of just us.

I promise, we're friends too.

"Home" means where you are absolutely yourself, your family still laughs at you, and that's what makes it okay.

It means you get to whine about your problems, and your family mocks you for whining, even though they still offer suggestions and sympathy.

It means you tell embarrassing stories. And embarrassing stories are told about you. And ALL of them are funny.

It means you pull simple, classy pranks. And they get pulled on you. All equally as funny.

It means you get to say things that may be hard to say, and you're supported all the way through it, constructive criticisms included.

It means you get to go through hard things, and whether or not your family gets to experience them with you, you all support each other through each person's hard things.

It means sometimes you're wrong. But no one stops loving you because you are.

It means sometimes, when you need to start over, you can. A sentence, a conversation, a project, a relationship, a lifestyle. You get a new start, and you get lots of support.

You could probably replace the word "home" with "family" or "love," or with a phrase like, "being in love with your best friend."

For now, "home" will do. And mine, that fits this wonderful definition? I love it.

[title from you remind me of home by benjamin gibbard]