“Hello,” I whooped in glee as I unlock the key to the place I call home. Far away from home. Silence. No sound molecules seem to collide with the vacant air molecule. No one is home I guess. More like no one is in the house. It is just a beautiful minimalistic house of massive size. Not a home to come home too. No one to give me the love of a family.
I miss home. I want to feel home. Bring back my home to me. I want a close family brimmed with joy and togetherness, not solitude. A home is where I could go and share how I feel with everyone in it, where we do things together as a family. Albeit joy is found in solitude to some, sustained solitude seizes smiles so souls stray from sentient. Slithering stress spreads its venom to the veins of an individual, as it dissolves into the blood and spreads throughout the flesh as it slowly devours life from a living soul.
A home allows a soul to live. A home could be inhabited by one man, yet many could settle in. It is not always brimmed with luxury nor a flock of living flesh. Solitude could be found in the midst of a crowd. It allows you to be you. It helps you become a better you. Thus it guides its people to joy.
Bring me back home. To where I belong. Yes. That is the definition. That is what this spineless strayed soul struggled stating. As simple as that. Home. Its definition varies to every individual yet all those answers are vivid visuals on how each interesting individuals illustrates the feeling of belonging.