I don’t have a home. A true home, I mean. I have lots of homes, but none that I can call my own.

I started my life in Bellingham, Washington, but we moved to California when I was four, so I don’t know that city at all. Then my home was Cypress, CA until the end of high school. That city served me well, but now that it’s in my past, I have no real need to go back. There’s really nothing too spectacular about inland Orange County.

Then came my years at UCLA. My junior and senior years I lived in the same apartment – two whole years in one place. Ever since then I have moved at least once a year, mostly within LA with one stint at my parent’s place in the Inland Empire (that’s still California for those of you not from the area).

Now I live in South Jordan, UT. I came here with my boyfriend so he could pursue a job opportunity. But on Saturday I’ll say goodbye to him and our relationship and Utah. Then I’ll say hello once more to the Inland Empire and my parent’s home.

I like to think of Los Angeles as home. I feel comfortable there. Happy, too. But there isn’t an apartment or even a neighborhood in LA that I can claim as my own. West LA is as specific as I can get.

The other place I have always considered home even though it’s never actually been my home is my grandparent’s beach cabin on Camano Island, WA. Summer days in Camano are where my soul lives, but not my body.

Home for me isn’t really a place. It’s where I’m with people that I love. Last summer I went on a trip during which I visited three locations – My sister’s house in Seattle, my grandparent’s cabin, and my parent’s So Cal house. By the end of the trip I realized that I had referred to each location as home.

Mike, my now ex-boyfriend, has been my home for the last year and a half. Thankfully, I have another home to take me in – my oh-so-understanding parents.

But it’s not quite the same.

This song has been a favorite of mine since the first time I heard it. It reminds me that even though I don’t have a place I can call my true home right now, I have people that I am truly at home with. Even if Mike can’t be one of them anymore.

Image: My own, Camano Island at sunset