My home away from home is 1,868 miles away.

I find myself being the happiest there. Surrounded by some of the kindest and gentlest souls, I am at home. The only thoughts spinning through my mind are ones of peace, comfort, and happiness.

It is here I have turned my reserved and quiet self into a girl filled with excitement and joy. The joy is incomprehensible; I don’t know how to explain what I feel when I am there. It is here I have found my purpose on this earth. 

It is here I am truly and always happy.

Quite honestly, never a dull moment comes over the weeks I spend here. Constant laughing, talking, and singing overwhelms the possible sadness that may be creeping near, ready to steal the glee.

I have finally found my people. Some of the greatest friendships that will last years—lifetimes—have begun here, in the house with the blue gate. Forever my favorite view is just a few steps away; I will never have enough pictures of the distant land resting atop of the blue ocean. 

I find myself feeling completely at home, not missing a thing that resides in my actual house. As awful as it sounds, I genuinely do not miss anyone or anything when I am here. It feels as if everything I have ever needed or wanted is right in front of me, and I could not ask for anything more—nor do I need to. 

Normally, I would pick up my phone countless amount of times a day, but I don’t do that here. Something about my second home takes away all of the gratifications I ever sought to find on any app. Instead, I pick up my phone once a day at most. I look for satisfaction and happiness in the people I am surrounded by on the soil I hold so dear to me.

Whether it be taking a two-hour ride in the back of a congested pickup truck up a mountain or laughing with friends so hard my stomach aches, I experience the most happiness I ever have had here. I know the high I feel when I am there is something that will stay consistent and with me forever, and for these feelings, I am forever grateful to the people who have led me there.

Five years ago, I would have laughed in my own face and told myself I am perfectly comfortable where I am; stepping completely out of what I knew and loved sounded insane and petrifying all at the same time. Today, I would not change a thing—actually, I would have made myself go sooner or go more often. Quite honestly, I am surprised I haven’t ended up just staying there, never to come home. Although, who knows what the future holds.

Maybe someday I will end up here, and I can only imagine the joy I would feel. Maybe a week will turn into a lifetime surrounded by my family. 

1,868 miles away. My home away from home is so distant. How I constantly yearn to be in the golden sun, gradually evolving sunburns because I failed to apply sunscreen once again. I want to be in the isolated mountains with the sweetest children I have ever known, singing and dancing until they can no longer do so. I want to be next to the clear blue ocean with an excessive amount of salt finding its way into my hair and starfish surrounding me. 

I want to be home.