Some people don’t miss home ever
Some because they find it everywhere they go
Some because they have never been to one for too long now that they have stopped feeling the need
They say home is where the heart is
But this heart is a wanderer
So, you never find home at one place ever
Sometimes you find it in the boy next door,
An old friend,
A text you read,
One way road you never went back to,
The old lady that treated you with wisdom over tea,
Familiar smell from your childhood,
The ice cream from the last summer of your childhood,
Your favourite meal that your mother cooked,
The wind that blows back at your hometown,
The star you talked with all night until it was never to be seen again,
And it is weird that you will not find them again and again
But will always feel them in your memories, next to your pillow, in your dreams, whispering in your ears.
And you will find home again
In the boy you met on your way,
On the terrace or the window sill of your new-found place,
In the coffee, you made for yourself,
In the smell of old books you carry everywhere,
In the playlist, in your phone, you have been making since you were 18,
Since you left home,
Cause your heart is a wanderer
And you home was never a place
