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Surprisingly, I only now realized that I have never acknowledged that I have moved out of my former home. Strange, considering – but maybe I was not ready to say good-bye?

My old flat had been my home for five years- the only place I lived in for that long. Before, I had moved around a lot in Germany, often rented furnished apartments or shared a flat with others. As I did in Austria at first. However, not this one. This flat was mine to live in and stay for a while, I knew it.

This home of mine was situated on the third floor of a rather old-fashioned building in the suburbs of the small Austrian town where I lived until this summer. Standing on my balcony and looking around, it seemed to be more like a little village, with houses that reminded me of farmhouses, the tiny town square below, the cobblestone streets and the cute fountain in the middle. You could always see oddly-dressed elderly, happy kids playing and couples walking their dog.

I loved sitting on my larger balcony in the morning and observing the sunrise. I heard the sound of the water in the fountain, and it felt like home. Additionally, the mountains changed colour so quickly as the sunlight touched them, and so did the meadows you could see on the foot of the mountain range. I used to drink my morning coffee on my white wooden bench there and feel gratitude- one of the cats on my lap, obviously.

Luckily, I also had a second balcony, a smaller one, on which I could watch the sun go down or spend warm Indian summer nights in my lounge chairs. It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful the end of the day can be when drawn by nature! This balcony was attached to my bedroom, so when I was too tired or it was too cold outside, I could just lie in bed and enjoy the spectacle from there and slowly fall asleep.

I moreover remember those single-day Saturday mornings fondly when I chose to stay in bed. While the rain was pouring outside, I was often curled up in bed with a book and tea or coffee, the purring of the cats my background sound for hours. Nobody waited for me to get dressed or do something.

My kitchen had a table and four chairs in it- and a cosiness I really loved. We had a girls’ night there regularly, ordering food and drinking sparkling wine until it arrived, chatting and laughing like only good friends do. When the mood struck, I cooked for the three girls and enjoyed being able to tune in on their conversation while I was doing so – or pass them vegetables to chop. 😉

All in all this flat seemed like a safe haven to come home to on bad days, a tower for the dreamer in me to dare to dream and for my soul to heal – and I could do all this because I had a place for me to settle after years of wandering. A part of me that had been lost or hidden or neglected, or all three to be honest, clicked during the time I lived there, and the bad and sad memories whirling around inside of me faded or lost their edges, so new ones could be made.

Actually, I am not saying goodbye to anything but the shell of the life I have lived. Sure, I loved my flat, my home. Yet I have found a home inside me that is not tied to an address. Reading books and cuddling the cats in the sunshine is always part of me. 😉I have grown into the person I am today- and she is a free spirit with a soft heart and open eyes no matter where she lives.

Author: carasmelody

daydreamer, hopelessly hopeful, I love the power of words, I love poems, words are soulfood

One thought on “Home”

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