It felt kinda strange to realize that I don't have a childhood home or place where I could return to and see all my things and furniture just the way they've been while I was growing up. So, I can never do this scene they do in movies, where many years later, they walk real slowly into the permanently unlocked, hazy hued house to find all their memories scattered and unfinished cookies spiderwebbed.
But, in a way, I'm glad there's no such place, such places tend to be somehow painful. And well, although I'm sort of sentimental and can get attached to my old lamp (which I decorated myself and almost gave it a name) I don't like this feeling. So, I threw the lamp out. Eventually. After years of beautiful co-existence.. It's sorta like being a moth that's pointlessly smashing itself against the window trying to get to the light that it sees inside. But even the moth has a better chance of actually getting to this light rather than me returning to my past. To which I wouldn't really want to return. Not that it was bad. Just thinking of past is always painful and sad. And as A-ha sings about memories - "the good ones hurt more than the bad ones do."
And now, another home that was put together from scratch, will yet again be abandoned, made a home of someone else, never to be able to return to the same experience of home.. just the place.
Another country to be made into home now.. fast forward to the already settled routine or try to enjoy the chaos that will come before?
Exciting and yet somehow brings tears to my eyes just by thinking of the move. Is it wrong to abandon your home to make a new home? What is natural to humans? To stay all their life in the same habitat or to wander about? Or to wander about their same habitat? Hm?
