My childhood home wasn't technically my house. It was my grandparent's house. A home is a place where we feel the most safe at. It provides physical safety. More importantly, it is an emotional safe haven, a place to feel comfortable and at peace.
Even though this house wasn't technically mine, it was the place I felt the most "at home." I was there more than I was at my actual house. It was my favorite place to be. It wasn't the prettiest house, and it definitely wasn't the biggest house. That honestly didn't even matter. It was the place I learned to ride my bike, the place I had my "mental breakdown", and the place I share SO many important memories.
My childhood home was my favorite place to. It was the place I wish I could go back to, but unfortunately someone else lives there now. I hope they are enjoying it as much as I did. 205 dogwood street, you will forever hold a big piece of my heart.
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