Home

Sometimes I wonder: What is home?
I live here, and it is home, and it feels like home. Yet this is not where I'm from, and I won't stay here forever, I've not even been here a year and I have a (still far away) leaving date. My parents' home, my childhood home, the house I grew up in - sometimes, for lack of a better term, I refer to that as home, and I certainly get asked "when are you next going home?". And to an extent, that place does and always will feel like "home", yet I haven't lived there since 2003, so the term doesn't quite fit.
And what about on a larger scale? I feel at home living here, but I would not claim Scotland to be my home country. But does the country I grew up in feel more like home? In a way yes, because I'm fluent in the language to an extent I will never be in English, I know the customs and social norms, traditions feel familiar, I understand where certain behaviourisms come from and could quite easily disappear in the crowd - but then again, maybe living somewhere else long enough would give me a similar feeling?
Home is a funny concept - maybe there are times when nothing feels like home, and at other times there are various places that feel right to be referred to as home. And maybe there is no simple answer as to what makes a place home.