As I lay in bed, half dead, sometimes maybe that I was, tired and achy, the sun was shining a slight breeze blew across my face from the rift of my bedroom's window curtains, reminding me to step out from the warmth of my bed, feed my pets, and greet them "good morning!" as a part of my daily routine. But instead, I rolled back into the warmth of my sheets; the eyes are asleep but the mind is awake-kind of sleep.
Saturday morning was always a great day for me as a child for it is the first day of freedom from school and I can do whatever I want; play, clean, dance, and I can admire everything especially my mom's home cooked breakfast. But as time passed by, my Saturday morning is never the same. Since my mom went abroad and my brothers, Christopher and Dave were already teenagers and have their own lives not including their poor sister, I, to be a part of their own little new world. It's already 6:30 and I contemplate to myself about why am I so bothered by the thoughts that don't exist yet or should I say, never really existed. Maybe I was jealous of the thought that I wish I was a child forever; maybe I'm just longing for the good old days of my good old self; maybe my heart was just lonely; or maybe just maybe.
The smell of the fresh cup of coffee crawled into my bedroom's door as my uncle's radio cassette is playing his old favorite playlist. I finally opened my eyes and slide my feet through my blanket sheet, trying to feel my slippers on the floor. I saw my dad outside the living room from the small opening of the door, reading a book, looking as intrigued as a detective of a crime scene. I could hear my brother, Christopher, and his friend's giggling at their same corny jokes. My brother, Dave, well, is watching his favorite superhero movies. And mom, she lights my phone up greeting "Good morning my kids!" Our house was filled with laughter, and music, and fragrance, and warmth, like it used to be. I never realized that the things that made me so happy remain the same. My lonely heart has learned its lesson; there are some things that stay the same if only you would stay the same as well. For the second thought, I felt home, again.
