Too few things stay constant in life - and friendships and family are meant to ground you. When I moved home three years ago, my grasp of either constants in my life was redefined. Those friendships I've formed since childhood and the new ones I rediscovered blew me away. I contemplate them on a daily basis, acknowledging how empty and colorless life would be without ever having experienced the sensation of being home...and then pulling away all over again and getting disoriented. Where it was once so easy to reconnect, the abundant memories are what keep me sane everytime I need a dose of it. There is something truly remarkable about those bonds formed at home. I constantly strive for those comforts but can only be thankful that I know the meaning of home so much more. Recently my dad gave us a little scare when he was sent to the hospital after a car accident in which his car was obliterated - I felt hugely challenged with the sensation of home tethering me back to it once again. The worry faded when comforting news came but that feeling of wanting to be home again still haunts me. Like a ghost, I remember it doesn't stop existing.

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