I’ve been away from San Francisco for exactly 11 days. Around day 4 or 5, I started to feel that yearning for the life I left behind while I jetted off to work on a dream project. My pets, my bed, my favorite park… even my favorite coffee stand. I’ve only been in San Francisco for about 6 or 7 months, but it’s strange to think how quickly it’s become ‘home’ to me. I didn’t move there with thought that it was a permanent move, but every time I leave, I ache for it. The strangest part is that I’ve always considered Seattle to be my true home. Yes, I only lived there for 2 years and, yes, I grew up in Maryland, but there has always been something that spoke to me about Seattle. For some fairly illogical and overly sensitive reasons (namely, a break up), I don’t feel like I can go back. At least, not yet. So I guess that partly plays into my surprise over how much I miss SF today. This leaves me wondering if there’s a sense of temporary home, sort of where you miss a place, but know it’s not the┬áplace. Or is it just that I miss my apartment, my things? I can’t really decide.

So tell me, what’s your meaning of home?

photography by Jojotastic