Home is wherever I’m with Pacer…
(Okay, the Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes’ song “Home” may now be a bit cliche, but I reserve the right to be a little cliche if I want!)
In the past two years, Pacer and I have lived in four different places. Five, if I extend the timeline to four years.
First was from a medium-large house in Hudson, OH to an obnoxiously large house in Hudson. A year later was the 2,000+ mile move to an obnoxiously expensive house in Boulder, CO. Once I split ways with my boyfriend, it was to a small room in South Boulder for a few months before sharing a condo with my sister and her boyfriend.
Now, a year later, it is to another room, now equipped with a small office area and mini fridge, in a shared house in Boulder.
Of all the places Pacer and I have lived, the only one close to feeling like “home” was the 500 mile Colorado Trail, which we hiked within the first few months of our initial move to Boulder.
The second closest place to feeling like “home” was our shared condo with my sister and her boyfriend. There, Pacer and I always had a loving family to come back to.
Unfortunately, that situation was temporary, though they are still only a few miles away.
Now, I write in a room with walls that are still undecorated. And yet, I am home.
Pacer is sleeping soundly beside me, as she did in our last three places (she wasn’t allowed in the bed before that), four if you include our mobile tent house.
As long as mine and Pacer’s heartbeats reside in the same room (or nylon walls), I am home.