You're back.
I don't need you like I used to, but damn don't I want you here.
You know that feeling, when you've been traveling a lot and you miss the feeling of home?
The way you can navigate in the dark when you're up in the middle of the night for a drink.
The feeling you get when you crawl into your own bed and recognize the feelings and smells and sounds.
The way the air feels... different; how is it different no one knows it's just fucking air. But it's home.
You're my home.
It's not the same home it once was, it's not a honeymoon phase home. Its a familiar, friendly, supportive home. The floors know my presence, even if I haven't stepped foot inside yet. The walls know my sounds, all of the wails and giggles... everything in between.
Life isn't predictable, never has been with you. But I want to hold onto the person that's here now.
I've missed my home, I've missed having my familiar.
YOU ARE READING
thoughts
Short Storyjust mini stories that come to mind that I have chosen to jot down as a means of practicing and strengthening my writing none of these have been edited and likely have not been read through before publishing so please not if you find a grammatical e...
