Today’s Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.
Today, I’m not going to write about losing a person. If I do, it will become sad writing and I’ll start crying, so better now.
Why I wrote homeless? I have a place, in which I live in, so particulary I’m not homeless. But sometimes I do feel like this. I miss my first home so much. This was my only real home. The place, in which I know will be always there for me. But let me show it to you. In words.
The only place I feel like home is in my village. I was living there till 2004. Then I graduated from the school there and I came to live and study in Plovdiv. My childhood was spent there. And believe me, It was a good childhood – with all the games, going outs and everything, which I child can do without PC, smartphone and anything else like the children nowadays.
I love to read books since I was a small kid. And in my home (in my village) there is a big library with more than thousand books. This is way too much for a normal family. However, this was my big treasure. This was the half of my room.
I loved the moments, in which I can grab a book, sit or lay on my bed and read till the end of the day. I loved it the most when I had summer holidays from school. It was priceless.
Now, these are my most precious moments from there. A place, which is only mine and moments, in which I was able to spend my daytime and nighttime as I want. I miss this place so much, but I know that I can’t go back and live there. My only visits are once per year, for a day or two. Not much. But I’ll never forget that precious time of my life.