Home, sweet home.

A place that was once home is now just another house. A house to use as storage. A storage that not just stores material things but also memories. Memories that we hold so deeply in our hearts that they are hard to let go of. Hard to let go of the house that we once called home. A home that my parents worked so hard to buy and make their own. To build a safe roof for my sister and me to grow up in. Something to finally call theirs after years of uncertainty and living under other people’s roofs, feeling less welcome and more like a burden. A home left with work undone and plans soon to be fixed. Left with some pieces of furniture with the hope of one day coming back.