I use to joke about having a gypsy soul. My love for traveling and going out on the road every weekend brought me so much joy; or so I thought.I mean, have you ever felt like you were made for travel? You stare at the space around you day in and day out and notice how nothing changes. How everyone does the exact same thing of wake up, punches in for work, goes home, start all over. It’s a vicious cycle that we are forced into believing this is the only way to live and if you disagree than you are looked down upon.
I have a wonderlust in my soul is all.
Everyday I dream and think about traveling across the states, sleep under the stars in the middle of the woods, wrapped up in the arms of my love. Hiking in the early mornings next to the creeks and rivers that only the animals know.
Freedom.
That is what I crave the most.
The freedom to just roam and now stress over how much this will cost me and my family. How much time I have to get this amount of work done. So the list goes on.
However there is one flaw in my wonderlust soul; I always am happy to be heading home. It’s a strange sensation and I often question if I’m the only who is drawn so close to the idea of home after a trip to the unknown. And I say idea of home only because where I live is not my home; it’s where my home lives. My home is my family. My daughter, our dog, and the man I love. Home is not a place as so many think. It is a memory and emotion. It’s where you first met, where your children are born, when you first smile at your soul mate, when your mind is at ease. Home is the most important emotion that a person can feel.
My home is in my heart and soul forever.
suoirotciv 