Furniture? Who you live with? The decor? The location? or something else? It's something I've often wondered over the years and I still can't quite put my finger on it. I left my parents house at the age of 18, that was home and continued to be 'home' even though I'd moved out. I then lived in a shared house with Aaron and a couple of others and although it was fun, it was never a home - there was far too much beer and not enough food to class it as such!
I then lived in a flat on my own for a while, it was nice and after a shaky start I did love it but although it was 'my little place' it never felt like 'home'. In 2003 Aaron and I brought our first house, it was nice and exciting, much better than the one we first lived in, and this one was 'ours' Over the years we decorated it, brought new furniture and also did an amazing redesign of the garden, but still I always felt something was missing?
I found these photos the other day after not seeing them since we left,
I loved the kitchen which Aaron designed, although I love mine now, with my big fridge/freezer and breakfast bar - a combination of the two would be nice! Our garden was quite big, and after a brilliant makeover by Aaron and my Dad was gorgeous. (must dig out some photos on that) It was a 3 bed house, so now I can really appreciate the space we had there but all the time we said something was missing and I'm still none the wiser as to what it was!
Strangely, within a matter of days our apartment in Cyprus felt more like home than anywhere since leaving my childhood home. This surprised me as I'd spent only 25 days in total in the country previously and knew no-one here at the time. It seems a bit odd that not only had I moved house but also left the country I'd spent all my life in and still I felt like I had come home.
Written as part of my A to Z posts.