I am in the process of packing and shifting to Australia so a recent Plinky prompt was quite relevant. When I first came to Wellington I shifted into a flat and over the next few years moved from flat to flat. When I bought my first property it was referred to as my unit or my place. It was the same with my apartment – it was my place, never my home.
Home for me will always be the house that I lived in with my parents. It was the place where I grew up and fought with my brothers, and where I returned to whenever I needed a dose of parental TLC. Sadly, I don’t have the luxury of homesickness and running home anymore. We grew up and the house was sold. Now we’re all living new chapters of our lives scattered around in different parts of the countryside.