
I don't understand the old cliché, "home is where the heart is." I believe heart is where the home is. Love comes in so many shapes and sizes. It is much like life in its variety. Family, lovers, friends, habits, thought, interests, curiosities, too many to count. So many ways but no encyclopedia to catalog them, only ourselves.
Memory fades as time passes but I could never forget the ways I've been at home. The love I've shared, the love I've taken. Places I've been a foundation and the places I've shaken. For someone to call one place home they would be sorely mistaken.
Home is not always beautiful to the eye but to the beholder its a dream they worry may end. Something worth all the trouble it takes to defend. Every step a means to this end.
Home is not always within reach, but a journey that must begin. A prize that only you can win. Keep marching through the nights until your paradise is within your sights.


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