Your Home

Things were off. A few tears had escaped in the moments I was alone in the room. Not technically tears of pain, but not not tears of pain. Perhaps of intense fear. It just was an uncomfortable situation, I didnt want to be there, not alone. But that was not something changeable. Upon leaving I made a call, it was midnight your time but you were waiting. You did your best to not act tired and to offer words of love and advice, you hold the role of mother in every aspect.

But I didnt want to be alone. I knew if I went in and shut the door I would feel overwhelmed. My mind would race to all of the possible impossibilities and I would begin to think of the worst options. So I went to your home. It was my home temporarily, only because you had opened your door to me. And the moment I was back in there sitting on the couch it once again felt like my home. I dont think you will ever know how much it means to have the two of you around. We dont spend every second chatting or sit around sharing our deepest secrets amid candles. But I know that when you guys are around I have nothing to worry about, that you will always be there for me and that I will always have your home to call my own when I need it. So I sat there, quieter than usual as was pointed out. That didnt matter. I just felt secure and free from the wilderness of my imagination and the worrisome place it can be. I love your home.

I dont know how to thank you, perhaps I shall bake you the only special thing I know.