Home and Change

    Things come and go, whether it be people, experiences, clothes, money, moods, etc. One thing, however, seems to always remain constant: home. I'm not sure what it is about it, whether it's the people in it or the house and property itself, but to me home is something special. Home is a place I always know how to get to. I am free at home, free to do what I wish and be who I want. Home is safe. When I am hurt, all I want is to go home. No matter if  I'm fighting with my family or my family is being torn apart within its walls, it's my home, and I still feel blessed, protected, and provided for when I am there. Never-ending memories of a childhood I once tried to forget flood back to overwhelm me at home.
    Change causes me to overflow with many contradicting emotions. There was a time when all I wanted was change. But now that change has become a possible reality, I'm having second thoughts. I used to believe that change would make all my hopes and dreams come true, that change would solve all my problems. Now, I'm only seeing the problems this change would bring to my life. 
    Whether change becomes reality now or later, I never want to have lost my home forever. The best way I can think to capture the memories, is to capture the triggers around my home of these memories. So I introduce the first of who-knows-how-many posts detailing my childhood memories with photos of the triggers included. I hope these will help me to let go of whatever pain I'm still holding onto, as well as hold onto my childhood memories.

    Yes, this is my front door. It's always been this lovely blue color. Notice the 821, yeah, that's my house number. (now you can stalk me, congrats. now stop worrying about my life and go get yourself a new one.) Anyway, I remember when that house number used to be 1157. To remember my address, I had this great little chant. :) Now, examine the window. I used to contemplate that design as I waited for a ride somewhere or what not. Let me tell you, I know that design like the back of my hand!

    This is my home. I may think it's ugly, and there may be hundreds of things I wish I could change or improve about it, but I still love it all the same. This is where I was raised. My childhood happened here, or at least most of it did. Even though I did move into town for a few years, and that house holds a special place in my heart, 

this is my home.