In every heart, there is a place called home. A place where you come back after a long day’s work and know you would get some peace and rest. Then it doesn’t matter what the size of the home is. They often say that people living in palaces could be as unhappy as some of the people living in a cottage. The home is where the heart is. And the heart is where the loved ones are. You’d be a family of four living in a one bedroom apartment and still be grateful because of the people living in it.
Packing the whole house can be intimidating. I've been in the comforts of my home for more than 6 years and the idea to move gives me the jitters. It's a bittersweet feeling. The convenience of knowing the people, the area and the surroundings will no longer be there. But what would be there is the excitement of moving into your own home. The place which would be yours forever and which would be decorated / painted / set up the way you like.
As the feeling sinks in, it also brings in all the good times spent in this house. All the celebrations and milestones that happened here. And as much as I'd like to pack up the whole place and rush to my new abode, there is a void that will be filled only with time. Or maybe I may not even get the time to think as the unpacking would start fast enough. Only time would tell how I’d fair.
As the feeling sinks in, it also brings in all the good times spent in this house. All the celebrations and milestones that happened here. And as much as I'd like to pack up the whole place and rush to my new abode, there is a void that will be filled only with time. Or maybe I may not even get the time to think as the unpacking would start fast enough. Only time would tell how I’d fair.
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