Where do you go when home doesn't feel like home?
My friend asked me this the other day as we sat in her car in the empty parking lit with her belongings in her trunk and her dog in the back seat. She had tears streaming down her face, her hand shaking as she wiped them away. This made me think.
For the past year I have dreamt of the day I can move out of that house. I realized it was the place I was raised... But not a place I enjoy being in. I've realized that the only time I've felt safe and at peace and actually okay when I was in your arms. By your side. In that moment I had realized that you were my home. Not just the person I want to spend the rest of my life with or the person I would die for. You are my home.
I looked up at her and smiled. I smiled. I made her get in the passenger seat to let me drive. I knew that when she was with Daniel she felt most at home in the world. That's where I took her. To Daniel.
When I got home that night I called you. I just sat there, listening to your breath, and told you I missed you. Because at times people get home sick.
(for my baby)
