Although I have spent a couple of my sleepless nights curled up on public furniture when I was younger. That isn't what I want to talk about here.
I'm talking about living in a house (apartment etc.) but not having a home.
There is a big difference between a house and a home...I think.
Not once in my life have I ever felt like I was home. Not even as a kid living with my mum. I had a place to lay my head at night. With a roof and walls and bathroom and kitchen and all the other things that you may find in a home. But it was just a house I lived in.
Everywhere I've lived has just been another place to live. Basically, just a place where I could keep my things and go to sleep.
I'm not quite sure how it would feel to finally be at home.
But I imagine, it would be like having a place that you feel comfortable. The kind of comfort you get when you're wearing your favourite coat, or pair of jeans. A place that just feels right for you. A place where you belong.
For now I don't really mind being "homeless". In a way I feel kind of lucky. It's like I'm still on an exciting journey. A journey that will hopefully lead me to my home someday.