A Heart That Lives Everywhere

"Home is where the heart it." It's the most popular saying about home. The place where the people you love are. The place where, if all goes cock up, you can still run to and hide under the bed.

As I mentioned before I felt quite at home in London. It didn't feel like a strange city to me. It felt familiar, even though I could never really explain why.
Only yesterday I returned from Frankfurt am Main, and not once have I felt out of place either.


There was one moment in particular, in which my feet were hurting but I wanted to see that old church nevertheless. So I thought to myself "okay, we'll look at that fancy church and then we'll return home to rest our weary and old bones." 
And I did not mean "home" as in Austria. I was not willing to take a train back two days too early because my feet were hurting. What I had meant was the room I shared with five lovely ladies - three of them constantly changing each night - in a rather dodgy part of the town. (It was cheap, and quite safe.)

So I had to wonder ... what is home?


It's not the place where the people I love are. Nobody that I know lives or was at that moment in Frankfurt. Furthermore, I was on holiday on my own - something I can only recommend.
The people I love are all over the world anyway: some in Germany, Switzerland, Austria of course, London, Bulgaria, Russia, the United States, and even Wales!
But none of them are in Frankfurt.

Frankfurt did not feel like a strange city to me. I did not find it annoying that I had to share my room with five ladies, and a rattling fan which tried to cool the room down but failed somewhat bitterly.
Of course it could have been the language. After all, I am fluent in German and English. However, if that is so, then why did I not feel at home in Zürich? This is a question I cannot answer.

I always knew that home to me could never be a place.
I thought that it really is where my family and friends are. But now ... I know that that is not true either.
My heart is all over the place. It wants to go everywhere and see everything. It wants to get away from the chains tying me down, from the responsibilities, from a job that I can't see as my "forever" job, from judgment ...
For almost a glorious week I forgot about all that. The biggest worry was if I should take a shower before or after breakfast. And that I misspelled the world "goat" in a tweet.
The already mentioned "goal" I petted because I am an adult. 

I saw so many new things, and learnt something new. I met people from Japan, Argentina, and even an American who knew that Austria is its own country.

I know very well that I am a restless person. After two weeks of doing nothing I start to question my existence. All of this means that home is not where I was born. It is not where my heart is, it is also not where my friends are - though I like to be able to contact them.

Home is where I am comfortable, and slightly on the edge as well because that's what makes it exciting. It's what drives me.

Maybe, yes, that means that I am never going to settle down at one place. Or maybe I will but it'll be at the other end of the world. It is also possible that it is just two villages further away from where I live now. I don't know. After this week, I learnt that I like not know this.

I love that my heart is all over the world.

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