Home is where the heart is.

When I was growing up, my mother had a ceramic muffin tin that sat in our kitchen. It was a gift on her wedding day when she married my step-father. The words 'Home is where the heart is," were painted on to it. Even when I was a little girl, these words baffled me. For most of us, home really is where the heart lies. It's where you first learned to ride a bike, where you had your first kiss, where you had that first sip of alcohol; a place that will always hold a memory, no matter how horrible or how exciting or how upsetting or how delightful. Being the dreamer that I was and still am, it was only normal for me to see this as something to tie a love story to. Home, being defined as the one you love. The one you pine after, the one you spend hours day-dreaming about, the one you eventually learn is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. Everything that makes for the perfect Hollywood romance. I thought it to be very silly that you would tie such emotion to a house. Sure, the things that go on there are things that define you as a person, but I wouldn't personally say that any of the homes that I have lived in would still feel like home today.

I was riding in the back seat of a car today and was day-dreaming while looking out the window. Suddenly there is a vacant lot, where there once was a home; now, just a foundation. I can remember seeing the home not even a month ago, very wise-looking and cared for. The house has since been reduced to nothing. But something was different. There is now a natural growth happening there. Flowers are blossoming, trees are growing, and no doubt - a home is in the works to be built right on top.

It's time for someone else's memories to be made here. Someone else to be brought into this world and fall in love with somebody. So that someone and that somebody can come together and combine their hearts to write their own enchantment.

- C