The moment I realized I finally belonged.
I guess I’ve never belonged before. I thought I was always going to be someone who does not belong: to anything, to anyone, to anywhere.
But when I was thinking about “home” I’ve always had this idea of a place. I never even for a second thought it could have been a person. That it could have been you.
All the coincidences, all the details that brought everything up to this very specific moment, all the little things.
The city I live in became my home because it was your home.
Your voice singing to me, late at night, when I can’t sleep, became my home, the only thing I wanted to run to when nothing else seemed to be working out. Your smile, your rings, your hands. I never belonged. To anything, to anyone. Until you came around. And with you your chaos. I am so grateful for your chaos, which quickly became mine. I am so grateful for our chaos.
Your perfume became my home, and I hate your perfume. But it smells like you, and I like you. Like. I like you, but maybe now we can say love you. I love you.
I spent most of my life running away, and I got so good at it. I ran from things, people, places, demons. I’m good at running.
As soon as something used to not go the way I wanted it to, I ran.
Until you. I would never run away from you. I admit I did it, a few times. But I was just trying to avoid the pain which sometimes comes along with you, walking next to your silhouette, because I am aware, I know I’m not the only one. But the happiness that comes with you is bigger, brighter, nicer than the pain.
Your boots became my home, the way you pass your hand through your hair, your tattoos, your smile, your hairspray, your broken t-shirts, the midnight driving, the bench at the top of the hill, the poetry books, the unwritten lyrics, the written ones.
The moment I figured out I was in love with you, was the moment I realized I was finally stopping. No more running, no more excuses.
When did I let someone become something so important like a home, to me?
I never thought that could happen, not to me, not ever.
It’s one of the greatest feelings in the world: knowing where you belong.
You made everything feel like home. Who would have guessed it? I thought for so long that everything was fine, that I could have kept on running for forever, I didn’t need to belong.
I was different. And then you came around, covered in flowers, your shining armor, your smile, big shoulders, your tendency of being extremely stubborn, your needs and your spaces.
I never thought a person could actually end up being my home. Mine. How did that happen? I couldn’t even believe it myself.
But he did it, he made it feel like home. He turned himself into one, into my home.
Isn’t that what you do for love? Make the other person happy, love, protected?
I’m still trying to figure it all out, but for now, honey, I think I’m home.