Breathe of A Different World
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What is a home? A home can be a place where you feel safe. A place where you can be your self. A place where you don't have to pretend your'e something you're not cause you'll always be accepted. Well to me a home is a person. My person. My heart. My anchor. My mate. Do you want to meet him?
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"Don't make homes out of people. This will leave you homesick and sad, missing arms that cannot hold roofs, hearts with shaky foundations." I made a home out of him. He was where I curled up and cried. He was where I felt most comfortable. He was where no makeup was worn. He was my foundation. He built me up, but I never felt like I was truly his home. I knew I was his true home, but I felt like nothing but his guest house, where he'd stay when he was drunk or just had a lot on his mind. Where he'd crash when he was on a downfall. Where he felt most comfortable, sometimes... Only sometimes. But, I still loved him... I had no place to judge him, seeing as though I wasn't even a halfway house when we met... I just wish my home was more welcoming sometimes. I wish my home had warm colors on his walls so I could feel more at ease sometimes. I wish my home had no doors so he wouldn't be able to shut me out so often. I wish my home was made out of something other than bricks and steel so he couldn't be so cold sometimes.. One night, he told me, "As long as I'm your home... You'll never need any other shelter." So, I stayed. And, I got adjusted to those black and white walls and those hard doors and that foundation made of bricks and steel. I made a home out of him, and I'm living comfortably sheltered from the world. And, I'm afraid I'll never be able to move out.
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