They say “home is where the heart is.” It’s taken a few years to understand what this means. But, I’m finally starting to understand the meaning behind the quote.
Whether it’s sleeping on a concrete floor in Laos, a cheetah-print covered bunk bed in Taiwan or sleeping in the relative comfort of the couch at my mom’s home in Ohio, I’ve found ‘home’ to be all over the world. Yet, it’s finally starting to hit home, in Dallas, that I have a home here.
It’s the little things that have made Dallas feel like home. Waking up every day to a loving dachshund, friends that pop by to say hello, picture frames full of memories and inspiration, favorite restaurants, new opportunities and finally feeling as if I’ve carved out a niche for myself. For a few years, I was worried to plunk down roots and make this my home. However, there’s no place I’d rather be at this moment in my life.
I’ve been pondering the upcoming trip to Columbus to visit my family for the holidays. Columbus feels different every time I return. I barely recognize the place.
This blog is a bit disconnected and disjointed; consequence of being written over the span of several days due to a lack of inspiration. C’est la vie.
Featured Image From Deviantart