You know that point in your life when you realise the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone. You’ll see one day when you move out, it just sort of happens one day, and it’s gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist. Maybe it’s like this rite of passage, you know. You won’t even have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, your kids, for the family you start, it’s like a cycle. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.