What remains of a place in our minds is a reflection of who we have been and what we have experienced. Like memory, a place is never static; it is constantly changing and being reconstructed. Memory does not provide a clear and stable image of places; instead, it is full of gaps, ambiguities, and transformations that take on new forms each time. A place is not merely geography or physical space but rather a medium in which memories are formed, transformed, and acquire new meaning with each return. Every point on a map carries layers of emotions—connections made there, moments that may no longer exist but continue to linger in our memory. These layers float somewhere between reality and imagination. Like memory, a place is always in flux, caught between what it is and what it was. No specific place can be experienced apart from its mental layers. Maps, no matter how clear or precise, only provide a superficial view of what a place truly is. Every time we return to a place, we reconstruct it—not as it was, but as it remains in our minds. A place is more than the lines on a map; it is the stories within which we have lived, and the layers our minds have added to it.