Home(less)

"Home, to me, is the place where you know where everything is in the kitchen."

This occurred to me the other day as I was watching a friend pack, getting ready to move out of her place for good. I went to the store to get some food, and this thought struck me. As someone who likes to cook, it seems rather apt. It describes just how comfortable I have to feel in a place in order to call it home. Granted, I didn't live there, but the place you live isn't necessarily "home". Still, her place wasn't home, but it felt more like home to me than any dwelling I've been in for a long time, even those I've actually lived in. I knew my way around the kitchen. That's "home" enough for me.

To have that degree of comfort with a place and with the person or people living there is a wonderful thing. Even if the person living there is you and you alone.

Where I live is not home. It is a place to sleep and occasionally hide from the world, but it is not home. While I am very comfortable with the person living there, it is not home. It doesn't have a kitchen.

Right now, I am homeless.