You’ll build homes where people were never meant to live. You’ll build homes in other people, on a particular table of a cosy café, on benches in parks no one visits anymore, and on streets you remember so well you could walk with your eyes closed. However, like all homes in the history of homes, you’ll leave them behind, and you’ll go further. Sometimes, the home will outlive you, and sometimes, you’ll outlive the home. It doesn’t matter which way it goes. If you come back and find the home isn’t there, a part of it will always stay in you, and if the home stands the test of time, anyone else who calls it one would find a part of you in it. Even if you return and the home still exists, somehow, it won’t feel the same. It won’t matter which one of you changed because home isn’t a place, a feeling, or a person; home is a moment in time.