Feelings of a Lonely Stranger

H o m e

In my mind, four walls never did contain the sense of belonging associated with home.

Those four walls were interchangeable with any other, and they often were, so settlement and comfort were short-lived always.

Consistent uprooting taught me the ability to let go, but if these combinations of rooms were house, rather than home, what brought me the warm feeling of complete immersion in a place you slotted so neatly into?

Something had to,

It was her.

The constant, the eye of the storm

While everything else swirled above and around me in persistent chaos, she remained in focus.

Rooted firmly to the ground, arms outstretched and waiting for my own, waiting for me.

The eyes that I melted into each time they met mine, the steady voice that sucked the sour from my brain, the presence that acted as a mind-numbing drug that held my full focus and attention and love.

The way we laughed about nothing and everything, the way we moved as one, complete opposites and Siamese twins. The way we could gaze into each other's eyes and dip into the other's mind and sometimes even their soul, if the sun hit just right.

In my mind, home wasn't a place, it was a person.