Not Lost, Just Far

First of all — cheers to me this is literally the longest time I’ve been away from a place called home!! I’ve survived this long. I’ve taken it one day at a time and I’m proud of whatever it took to be here!

Some questions come often, sometimes from strangers, sometimes from friends:

• Do you miss home?

• Are you homesick?

• How are you managing not going back?

The answer is almost always: Yes.

Yes, i miss home. Yes, i’m homesick and yes, it’s tough being completely alone, figuring out everything from scratch and holding yourself up in a new world.

But somewhere beneath all those questions lies a deeper one:

What is home, really?

Is it a place?

Is it a person?

Or maybe… is it an emotion stitched into the quiet corners of your heart?

Home is definitely to me the sunlight that stays after the storm! Something that’s gentle and healing

Of course, it’s my Mom,Dad,Family and the familiar rhythm of my city but more than that home is a part of me. It’s a version of myself that I’ve been building, slowly and painfully across years and different places.

Sometimes, home is a warm bowl of soup.

Sometimes, it’s an ice-cold ice cream on a summer night

Sometimes, it’s a notification from someone you care for or maybe, it’s the silence you choose, rather than the noise you escape from.

Home can be a crowded cinema theatre or a random Spotify playlist that somehow understands your 2 AM mood.

It can be the deep breath before a call or the pause after a long walk or even just your own heartbeat syncing with a memory you haven’t told anyone about.

Now this might sound odd — but hear me out.

I was randomly thinking about the Pythagoras Theorem (yes, the math one):

In a right-angled triangle, the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides.

if you think about it metaphorically…

• Let’s say your upbringing is one side - everything you were taught, everything that made you.

• The constantly evolving life - the trials, the change, the independence is the other side.

Then maybe… just maybe…if you think about it

Home is the hypotenuse.

The longest side. The invisible thread that connects it all. The one that ties where you came from to who you’re becoming.

Yes, I miss the memories I hold as home

the smells, the streets, the small routines I didn’t know I loved.

But here’s what I know for sure:

When I close my eyes and ask myself, “Where am I?”

I feel something steady, soft, and whole.

I feel like that says “ I’m home”

And maybe, in the end, that’s all that matters