For the first 15 years of my life, I knew exactly where home was. It was the red house across from the town green where I lived with my parents and my brother. I never thought of home as being anywhere else. That is, until we moved and home became a different house. But I still knew exactly where home was.

Going to college made me wonder where home was. I knew a lot of people who started call their dorm rooms "home." For me, my brother's house became my "home away from home" and then eventually just "home." I've even called airports and train stations home because they were close enough. I've also called people home. I mean, they say "home is where the heart is," so it's easy to make a home out of someone you love.

But what happens when that person leaves? What happens when you move away? What happens when your parents move from your childhood home? What happens when your family isn't in your hometown anymore? Then where is home?

There was a while that I thought making a home out a person, not a place, was a good idea. That would mean that you could make anywhere your home, as long as you were with that person. I also quickly realized why that's not a good idea: people leave. If you make your home a person, you'll be homeless when they leave.

I thought home was the town you grew up in. It was where you made some of your closest friends, where you went to school, and where you lived. I was lucky enough to grow up and live in the same town my whole life, though. Some people have moved around a lot, and have grown up in more than one town. They've gone to different school, made close friends on opposite sides of the country, and lived in so many places. So where would home be for them?

Family is the other factor in figuring out where home is. There was a time I believed that home was where your family is. It didn't take long to figure out this is only half true. Families grow and change and move away. Sometimes, children move hours away from their parents and make a new home somewhere else. Sometimes, jobs force siblings to move to opposite sides of the country instead of being close by like when they grew up together.

I'm still not sure where home is. Even after 21 years, I don't know if home is where I'm from, where my family is, or where I go to sleep at night. Home could be the next city I fall in love with, or just the next house I live in. One thing I do, know, though, is that home is a place where I'm happy. As long as you're happy where you are, home can be anywhere.