You Are My Home

My mother once told me that the kindest thing anyone could ever say to you is:
“You feel like home.”
I have come to understand why she believed in it’s meaning so entirely.
Home is where you feel the most comfortable,
where you are the most genuine.
Home is where you feel safe, sheltered.
It is where you long to be, when things go awry, as they always do.
And it is always there, you never wonder if it won’t be, it just always is.
Home is where you unravel your burdens, and it holds them, so that you can walk out of the door the next day without the weight of your problems bringing you to your knees.
Home stays with you as you grow, accepts you as you undoubtedly change.
Home is a place you are always tied to, no matter how far you wander from it.
Home is where the heart is.
I realized that each description didn’t remind me of a house, my mind led me to you.
You’ve always felt like home to me.
And that’s where my heart will be until it beats for the last time.