My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing me due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying- because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one- who belonged to everyone, who had nothing- who wanted everything. With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about- and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. But there's no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lied you head.