Temporary Home

Alright, so it was occurring to me on April 12, 2014 that I needed to write a blog about something that was making my insides feel a little bit heavy with melancholy. I spent my spring break in good old Kansas City visiting relatives (I actually really enjoy Kansas, even though it's a little dull. I associate it with good things.). It always makes my heart sing that I get to see my whole entire family, too. It's the best. I visited two colleges while I was there (William Jewell in Liberty, KS and College of the Ozarks in Branson, MO) and those were awesome, too. It made me start really thinking about the future (even though I am seriously future-oriented already) in an aspect that the future that I always dreamed of was now quickly becoming the present, and that the stories in my mind of what college would be like could actually come true in their own sort of way.
So, my family and I said farewell to Kansas City on April 12, 2014 (even though my sisters and I wanted to stay another day, but didn't, much to our dismay). April 13 promised snowstorms for Estes Park, CO and April 12 still looked promising when it came to snow, unfortunately. I expected to get snow on our way from KC to EP, and even more importantly, I was hoping for rain. I didn't see any rain the whole entire time in Kansas and I don't even know why the heck not. Rain is like April in precipitation form (if that makes any sense whatsoever). So, I was hoping for rain.
But, while I was on my way back "home" to Estes, it got me thinking. Estes doesn't even feel like home to me. It's a safe haven from all the bad things in cities if anything, but even that's not enough. It's not home. It made me sad to come home to an empty house without any people in it. It made me sad to think about going upstairs to my bed in my messy room and probably just turn on music (like, Mat Kearney or someone. By the way, I'm listening to his song "Breathe In, Breathe Out" right now. It's a good one. Check it out if you haven't listened to it.). It still makes me feel sad that I am sitting on my bed typing this right now listening to Mat Kearney and not feeling like this is really my home. It feels more like my home right now, but I will explain all of this later.
I felt like it was home in Kansas City. I felt happy. I felt happy sitting around at people's houses and I felt happy drinking iced tea and listening to nice acoustic music and I felt happy just being there, and being alive, and being hopeful.
This isn't to say that I absolutely hate Estes. Estes is beautiful, but I guess the blues of being an upper classman in high school is really starting to get to me and I'm really wanting to graduate. I want to live in that future I imagine and I want to take psychology classes at one of the schools I checked out and I want to eat crappy food and be busy with work and find my soulmate, etc etc etc. It's probably because right now, I just really want to find my home, since I don't feel like I have very many friends here and I honestly don't really care if I'm not in contact with anyone after I graduate. This being said, I probably will be in contact with people from high school after I graduate, because I will still miss them, and I'm just a teenager full of angst right now.
This is my conclusion: Home isn't a place. Home is wherever you feel the most love. Home is the people you love the most in the world. That's home.
And it all made sense to me, at least. When I arrived at my house in Estes Park, it didn't feel like home. That's because all my family was with me in the car and no one was in the house and there was nothing to look forward to inside. It's because all my relatives were in Kansas and they're my family and my friends and I felt happier with them and I felt like I was loved more there with everyone, than I am here. I have my mom and my dad and my three sisters, but I don't really have a whole bunch of other people in Estes who I can say I love and they love me back. I have, like, maybe five people. And it's okay, because I actually like being alone sometimes. People wear me outttttt, yo. And I like feeling sad sometimes, and I know it may sound weird, but I like feeling melancholy a lot. I feel like I write better and listen to better music. I'm more creative when I'm sad. But, that's all for another post, though.
Back to the point: I don't feel like I'm home here as much as I feel like I'm at home in Kansas, because there's more people that I love there. When I go to college, it won't feel like home, and when I'm in Estes visiting during college, it probably will feel more like home, because there's more people I love there, than when I'm in college. I think this cycle will go round and round for the majority of my life. I'll never feel at home wherever I live. I might feel at home when I get married and can go home to my husband everyday or something. I might feel at home when I visit Kansas City every spring break. I might feel at home when I visit my parents over Christmas break in college or something.
But, honestly, home will never be a place for me on this Earth ever. This is my temporary home, after all. I know I'll be in Heaven someday, and I know that's my true home, but for now, here I am- prone to wander endlessly on this temporary home, looking for a place where I belong that I'll never truly find.
But for now, I'll just go listen to Andy Grammer and watch The Perks of Being A Wallflower or something, because I'm exhausted after getting all my emotions out of me.
Cheers.