I’m sort of the opposite to you: I lived the first 20 years of my life in one place, and my dad still lives in that house now. But it’s not home to me. Nor is any other place I’ve lived, even the ones I’ve dearly loved. Even the one I technically owned.

Home is the invisible space behind your eyes or the warm space in your chest that vibrates in time with your heart. Anything else is just a place to keep your stuff.