Finding Home

The word home has an amzing impact on people, it creates a euphoric sense of imagery and relase of endorphins that magically make things completely better. How many people would rather be sick somewhere other then their own bed.
I recently moved to a new place some 13 hours away from my hometown in Oklahoma, and the word home seems to have no real application anymore. Mind you that I am a so-called homebody and enjoy being at home when I read or write or do any of the many things I enjoy doing in my spare time. However is my home not in essence where I lay my head at night? Is it a place where I pay rent? Or is it where I spent the major proportion of my life? The confusing part is there are so many stipulations to a home, a roof, a bed, bills, where you eat, but is it not a major proclivity that you love where you are at the time, how many freshmen at college think of their stuffy dorm rooms as their homes? Although being of an age more appropriate to adulthood is it not time for me to make my own home? But does that mean paying rent?? Is it purely financial? The road is clear for me to achive my own home, but where I live now is not a home, it seems more a roadside gas station to a larger trip in the creation of my home. What is a 2 year stop anyways, in this time with internships and the chance of relationships is it not likely that my physical address will in fact change?
Then their is the old "Home is where the heart is" thing, but is it truly? My heart is with me now and I feel no more at home in this 2 bedroom apartment then anywhere I have ever been. I feel a prisoner of my own doing, yet all the amenities are here, tv, laptop, dvd player, shower, air conditioning, bed, kitchen, fridge, yet for all its intentions it feels no more then a motel.
Another aspect to analyze is whether or not my parents home is my home? I dont pay bills there, I dont own it, I was more a long term guest then anything else. So in fact I feel as if I am homeless, but inside me is a world, one created with many different relationships, and interactions, one that has had resounding impact on other people, and hopefully a postive one on the world as a whole. I feel as if a homeless person may very well know more about being at home then anyone in the world, they are not affronted by things, and clothes, and fancy food, they only wish to survive and in this may be more at home with themselves then anyone on the face of the planet. This leads me to believe that upon achieving my dreams, and becoming who and what I want to be, I may be more at home in the Amazon taking pictures of Jaguars and others species of animals, sleeping in a tent and recording data then any other time in my life.
Home is not a place, its more of an ideal, and it is carried with you through the relationships you have built and the impact of those relationships with other people. Home is in essence where the heart is and where you finally feel that release of life that lets you know im free, im here at last, and im where I belong.