Posted by: shellyweave | May 12, 2010

home is where the heart is.

Coming home after a trip always makes me feel good. The familiar smell of my room or the way my puppy greets me at the door strikes right to my heart. Home just feels so natural and so perfect. Disneyland has a similarly familiar feeling of magic and possibilities, seeing as I vist it at least once a year, but nothing has the same feeling as home. It is good to be home, even after such a short weekend jam-packed with crazy fun, but home is also a place of good and of bad, and after such a picturesque weekend, I came home knowing something had to go wrong.

This week, a lot has been on my mind with AP exams, tests, make-up work, a dirty room and a mountain of dirty laundry. Sometimes in life it feels like nothing more can pile up, and then it does. Break downs in the school hallway, 79 cent slushies with Shelly to wash away the day’s drama, fights with your sister, angry friends and grumpy parents. It all adds up. Sometimes I lose sight of what is really important and everything in life takes over, really overwhelming me.

Overwhelming situations aside, the tinest things this week have helped me deny the bad and realize the good. Like how twice in the course of a week I have managed to burn my skin while sleepily curling my hair in the early hours of the morning, allowing large welts to appear. Now, this might not be viewed as a good thing in normal everyday life, but I have found the humor in it. Shelly has deemed me the Queen of Burns; I’m getting a crown and everything. Or  the fact that I can run around my school searching for my “long lost love” and have that be ok. Or that I can come home from a groggy day at school and nap my life away. Or the “good morning” texts I receive from my friend that always seem to put me in a better mood. All of the constants in my life help put me at ease when my world seems to be crashing down around me.

So, although sometimes it would be easier to live my life as a hobo in the Magical World of Disney, I would miss home– the good and the bad. Home, in the very least, is reliable. It will always be here no matter where I am. Home will always be the place of arguments and laughter, love and angst, smiling or tears. Home is where I place my trust and where I will always love to be.

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