Home Is Where The Heart Is

For today's post, my challenge is to describe where I am now. As with most things, I'm taking this in a metaphorical sense. In this small town community in which I reside, I consider myself home. When I was little, home was simply a house that I would attempt to draw on paper with an assortment of colors in the form of crayons, and where I would return to do my homework and get ready for the next day of school. However, as I've gotten older, I've discovered that home is anything but that. Home isn't that cold house where I walk on eggshells, where I pretend I'm fine to avoid conversation. Home is wherever I am with my friends, where I feel safe and loved. It's the band room after school, where I've spent the majority of my high school career with the band I consider family. It's the Granite Bowl, where masses of crowds have cheered in my favor for three years now. Home is my dog, with her constant excitement and the never ending wagging of her tail. Home is my music, which makes me feel like the best version of myself. Home is and never will be that house, it's my experiences.