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 Home

a word I’ve struggled with for the last 4 years.  My mom moved out a week after I graduated high school.  Home stopped being home shortly before that.  I followed her to her new apartment in North Fondy. I actually considered that place home. I had my own bedroom, I really liked the place.  It felt right.  She moved the following year back to West Bend to the dump of an apartment she has now. It’s not that dumpy to be honest, but it’s cramped, and when I’m there I feel like I just don’t belong there.

My dad moved to 3 different places since the house I grew up in.  The house on Decorah was like a home. It was homey, and though I shared a small bedroom with a girl I really didn’t like, it was still somewhat homely.  I think it had to do with the amazing backyard that existed.  There was a sense of freedom and I’ve always been an outdoorsy girl.

Then he moved to this really cool dome like home that was really funky.  I really enjoyed it, especially the library which was not a completely closed off room, but it had a built in bookshelf that came with the books, and it was 10 ft high at the least.  I was supposed to have my own room but it turned into Brett’s.  I was designated the loft, which I was okay with…except that it had no door, you could see it from downstairs, and if you whispered in the far back corner of the room, because of the shape of the dome and the acoustics, you could be downstairs on the opposite side and hear me perfectly clear. Kind of cool but kind of impersonal.  Dad lived there for 2 years but I never felt at home when I was there.  It’d be a matter of hours before I wanted to leave.

Whenever I would come back "home" it was a matter of HOURS..not even a full day..before i was itching to go back and be in my own space, my own bed, some place that was more comfortable than "home"

In the mean time, I acquired 4 different addresses over those 4 years.  Moving, moving, moving. None of those places seemed like home to me.  Obviously the dorms didn’t.  I felt slightly at home in my old ass house on Market, except sometimes I was afraid to be home sometimes because there was a ghost (i could tell you the fun stories), and my roommates never did dishes and it jst pissed me off.  I’m on address #5 and it’s still no home.

This new apartment my dad is living in is PERFECT.  I wish I could pick it up and move it to La Crosse.  It’s the kind of home I always wanted, except in a house form instead of apartment. It has shape to it, a fireplace, a loft, a nice kitchen. I just love it.  For the first time, his furniture matches the place too…it’s modern but cozy.  I came "home" (whenever I say i am going home, it generally refers to me returning to my hometown or just wherever my parents are) last night for the first time in a while.  This is the first time I feel like I’m at HOME.

I spent the whole day with my dad.  Our plans completely failed in some ways, and yet we made the best of it and it turned out well.  I don’t feel AS alien with Elaine around as I did before.  I have no problem with her. It’s still just weird sometimes.  But today was good, even with her around.  For once I’m glad that I’m at my dad’s.

I finally feel at home.

Just can’t wait until I have my OWN

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