Not so white lie...

I lied to my father this weekend. He asked me on Friday when I got home "Do you finally feel like this is home?" He was really hopeful looking and somewhat brighteyed and I just couldn't tell him. But the truth is, Friday night after my parents had gone to sleep I stopped and looked around at our new house and... I just kinda lost it. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. You'd think after all this time it wouldn't be so bad. And a great portion of the time it isn't so bad. But sometimes I really really just wish... you know. I mean, that house hasn't been home since they bought it, but this weekend it felt like a foreign country that I had no buisness visiting. I've tried to expalin this to my parents but they don't seem to quite get it. They just want me to feel better I guess. But They'll always be my parents and it will always be important for me to visit them no matter where they live, but I don't think that has to mean that I love the place they live or that said place ought to feel like home. But I still feel bad for lying...