The Concept of Home

It seems like, in college, our concept of home becomes less solid than before. During the school year, our families learn, sometimes with great difficulty, to live without us. And when we return, the process of unlearning the rythms and movements of a home that is one person less full begins. It seems, though, that we, students I mean, don't have a place any longer. Our house seems much less as ours. Instead, it seems as though we are a guest in our one house. In short, our dwelling becomes a house, and not a home; our concept of home becomes, well, a concept and no longer a reality. But when is it that we find that feeling of home again. Is it when we live with our roommates, and begin to make that situation a family instead of a group of acquaintances and friends? Is it when we move out on our own and have our own house, when does that house become a home? Is it when we move in with a girl? Is it when we get married? Or is it when the union of two souls births, out of abundance of love, another being to become a recepticle of this superabundance of passion? Only time will tell, because I haven't been able to call any house home for years. When my parent's divorced, home became less than a concept, it became a memory—a memory colored with joy and great sadness. I've come to believe that home is a place where love unifies. For this reason, I think home is the place where a love is shared fully, without division, without summers off. Home is that one thing that is constant, that is why it is such a comfort. When work sucks and school blows and your social life does a little of both, home is still home. Home is love—unified, centralized, uncompromised. Home is a location and an emotion compressed into one idea. So when we find people, a place, and an emotion, then put them together all at once, that is home. Whether that means, to you, a family of blood or a family of friends, home is that place.