So to ask, where is my home? I have never felt at home at my house. Most of the time I feel like an outsider. Like I’m just a house guest. I have never called it my home, nor have I called anywhere else in my whole life ‘my home.’ So this quote, it stands out. Home is where the heart is… where is my heart? Does that mean that wherever my home is that is where my heart always goes to? Where does my heart go to? Where does it reach out to? To a person? A thing? An actual place?
Home is where the heart is… —now I just want to know where my heart is.
Byebye freshman year, hello summer 2012. Ever since I started Tumblr my 7th grade year I always posted a “Last Day of School” or “End of the Year” whether it was on this blog or my other blog. There was always a post about the end of the year. And I’m not about to break my “tradition”.
So…this year I end my first year in high school.
- I’ve met lots of people, a lot have become close friends, and just a small handful have become my truly close friends, some I’ve come to know to avoid as to not cause any problems. Things this year are so much more different than years before.
This year I shed no tears as the “end” came.
