My house is a home because__
My family lives here.
I actually use “home” a lot more loosely than others, I think. When I was at my sister’s, and we went to her sister-in-law’s, I told my baby we will be going home soon, and I meant back to my sister’s.
I have always called other’s houses, homes. Sure, it’s their home, not mine. Which is weird, because for the last, oh I don’t, seven years, I haven’t felt like I’ve belonged. Yet, here I am, using home to refer to more than one house.
When I had my own apartment, I finally felt I belonged…Almost. Something was missing, and to this day, I don’t know what.
I want to have my own home, with my baby. And I wish with her daddy, too.