I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me
There's that saying 'Home is where the heart is'. Well, I've been thinking about home a lot. Growing up, my dad was in Army. That meant we moved every three to four years. I remember my dad leaving for Germany when I was about 5 or so. We had to stay in the States until it was cleared for us to go over. I remember the day the moving can took our stuff sway. The house looked so empty but held so many memories for me, even at 5. I remember watching Freddie in the living room, not being scared. Now, I can't sit through a scary movie. The last one I watched was 1408, and I almost broke the boys hand. I remember when my sister was born, how we lived in the white upstairs apartment and the moved to the blue and yellow house. I remember trying to help feed her. I also remember getting a screw stuck in her leg from putting her in a high chair. In Germany, we lived in a split level house. Our landlords lived on top, us on bottom. Everyone around us was German lol. We had the best neighbors. When I graduated high school, I received a card from the lady that lived right next to us. They were the grandparents we didn't have. I'm so thankful they were part of our lives. I remember sledding down the huge hill off of Farmers Hill and getting stuck in the snow bank of the other side of the road. Moving back to the States, we lived on Base. I look back at that house and it's such a mix of emotions. In this house, I sprained my ankle for the first time, found out my grandmaw passed away and my grandpaw has a stroke. I see this house as the bad house. Still, I do have good memories. I loved watching the seasons change. That is way Fall is my favorite. My dad feeding squirrels on our back porch. Then my dad got hurt and we moved for the last time.
I really didn't make a lot of friends growing up because we, as well as everyone we knew, moved. By 7th grade, I was tired of making friends. I remember sitting at the dinning room table crying to my mom because we had to move....again. I remember asking why couldn't we just stay? When me moved to LA, I was the odd kid. I wore black nail polish and my hair was short. Kids weren't quiet back it, either. It didn't really bother me at first. It wasn't that hard making friends because I was in band and, later, chorus. I wanted friends but, at the same time, didn't. I just let it happen. I wasn't really close to anyone. I guess that why I want to fit in so bad now, but part of me is okay with being a loner. It's like I've been one all my life.
When I got the chance to do VEDA, I was excited. I thought I would make new friends, get more blog readers and vlog watchers. I loved doing VEDA. It was so much fun. Then VEDA ended. I tried keeping in touch with everyone. They just seem to have gone off without me. I sort of feel like I'm not wanted. I know that sounds silly. I guess I need to do more.
I've had this urge to leave for a while. To try something new, live in a new place. But part of me doesn't. I'm not sure it will ever happen. Part of me wonders if I'll ever feel at home.