A few weeks ago, I had a really deep conversation with my parents – like, me sobbing uncontrollably until I could barely breathe deep. In all honesty, it was weird. It was a combination of absolutely awful yet relieving at the same time. I was stressed beyond belief, between school, work, organizations and continuous demo. Now, you would think that demo at our new house would not affect me at all at this point, because I am away at school. Wrong.

Oddly enough, I feel like sometimes, it affects me more. Ever since demo started, I have felt unsettled – even though this feeling of un-settlement is small. My belongings are scattered between three different places, and every time I am home, I live out of a duffel bag (obviously because I have to go back to school), but also because half of my stuff is with me at school, and the other half is packed away in boxes. It has actually gotten to the point where I cannot even remember what I packed in each box. But, I guess that’s what happens when you pack months before your family because you are a) too excited and b) leaving for school.

Now, do not get me wrong. I am not constantly stressing over things I have no control over – because there is not any point. However, sometimes, it just hits you.

That few weeks ago, it hit me like a train.

My parents are working extremely hard to have our house finished. We are months behind schedule, and everyone is stressed and worn out. So, when I broke down to my parents, my dad made the comment, “a house is not a home.”

He made sense of all of my pent up feelings. I have had such a love-hate relationship with coming home this semester. I want to come home and spend time with family and try to organize my life at home, but everything is scattered – because we’re all trying to turn our new house into our new home. The first few weekends I came home, I rarely saw my parents, because I would stay at our condo and do school work and they would work at the house. The last couple of weeks, I started to go to the new house to do homework, and that’s when it clicked. I hated being at the condo alone, because when I came home, I wanted my parents.

So, like my dad said, at this point in my life, the house is not my home. Home is where mom and dad are. Home is where family is; home is where your heart is.