Home a word that is used to describe a building in which we seek shelter and warmth from when we are relaxing for the day. For me it was never a building though it was a person or sometimes more then one it was people. Home is the sense of feeling comfortable, safe, loved and happy. To me I found that in people, music, reading, drawing and just being me. In 500 years that will all be memories and stories told by my kids and my kids kids. My home will be transformed into words flowing around as my happiness did as I went from family to friends and hobbies. My home will be a figment of one’s imagination but hopefully found when they are around the right people. To describe my home is to describe a boy, a man actually. He came into my life when I wasn’t looking for him and now I can’t imagine my life without him. He is my calming point, the calm after the storm, and most of all the reason i look forward to waking up everyday. My memories I make with him is my home, his laugh is the music I play when I cook, his smile being the sunrise I wake up to everyday, his hugs the comforters I wrap myself in every night. His eyes are the sea I stare at as I breath in the fresh air, his lips are the clean slate I look for at the beginning of each day. Home for me is a person and in 500 years my home will be pictures, stories and memories.