I feel like a ghost in my own house. I don't think that's good, but it's still true. I walk through the place I grew up in, where I took my first steps, said my first words, smiled for the first time. I never realized that those would turn into distant memories so quickly. I can't remember the last time I was happy to be at my house. I don't remember if it ever felt like home. It must have because there are pictures somewhere of me smiling like I was the happiest person on earth, but that was a long time ago. Too long. I feel like a ghost in my own house, I hope that's not all I am.
