i forgot where my home is. at least

i forgot where my home is. at least i don’t feel myself at home wherever i am. i mean i’m happy cooking food and washing dishes anywhere we can have dinner together, but i’m a little lost. ruin something that is definetly “home”, build something that can become “home” and then leave it at once. great logic, and it’s been happening to me for five years already.

it’s not about my relasionships with the parents. it’s just about me as a woman. i need a place where i could become the only keeper of the hearth. 

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