There are many words which can only be translated in their native language since English has no related word for them. One such word for me is this Welch word Hiraeth.

Hiraeth means a deep longing of a home that never was.

Strange if you think about it. How can you miss something you never had? I can and I believe have always felt it, even before I knew this word.

But what if its not strange at all. It could be more than just a word, right?. Maybe it sketches the guarded relationships from all past lives, the moments which soul is not ready to give up on, the people who completed the mere existence and are still somewhere near the soul. I definitely can clearly see some of those houses as a strong vivid memory. Like that small house nestled in between a dense green forest from where I can see that peak of a mountain. The smell of grass, fresh air and pure peace is glassy in my mind.

The house has no defining architecture but if you visit it, you will say that it has a soul. There are children playing with joy , I can not say if they are mine but they smile at me and I miss that smile. There is someone wearing a hat and cowboy clothes chopping the wood, maybe its me in a different set of clothes or someone who was supposed to be there. But wait, I can’t see myself. But it makes sense because there is no mirror and just the reflection of my Hiraeth.