home, home is wherever I'm with you

This past break I've realized that I should stop being so stubborn and acknowledge that I can have two homes. When I was in Walnut, I refused to call it home. I had only been there for two years and I felt out of place for the longest time. Home was Steveston. Steveston was home. Since September, I've been in Steveston too many times I've lost count. Going down railway on the 402 always brings back a rush of familiarity like I was bussing home from school like old times. And then there was this time when I saw my parents driving into the arrivals terminal at LAX. Seeing their faces brought a kind of comfort that I wasn't able to find back in Steveston. It brought different emotions, such as security and that nice kind of dependence. It was nice having someone make dinner for me and do my laundry and basically everything else that I've had to do on my own for the previous four months. I like my dorm life and the independence that comes with it but I've also missed having my parents there from morning to night, knowing that I'll be taken care of.  I've come to realize that home is wherever my parents are. And well Steveston too.