they say home is where the heart is, but my heart needs to wander.
my heart needs to feel the existence of another.
does my heart belong in the crowded streets of New York City?
Maybe it belong in the hands of a handsome young man.
Some how, my heart tried running away, but instead it was tethered to you.
maybe this is a sign i need to be strong, and try harder to break free. i need to find what i love. My hopes, dreams, aspirations, and my passions all draw back to you. You see, i try and i try to get through the everyday labor of what you call life, of what you call love.
But will you remember what you said tonight?
"some people don't know how lucky they are to be able to spend their lives with the better half of their souls until they have to spend their lives without them"
it wasn't until i met you that i realized,
home isn't a place, it's a person.
-ZEN
YOU ARE READING
home
Short Storyto me, a home isn't just a place. it could also be a person. some homes are full of love, some are full of pain.
