You’re no longer the space that holds me together, you’re the empty walls that tear me apart.
They aren’t under the impression that marriage and happiness go hand-in-hand.
Maybe ‘home’ is not about where you are, but about how you feel. The way you find yourself belonging to a person or place, simply because it’s where your heart has decided to rest.
Stay single until you meet someone and realize home has never been a place but rather this person and wherever they are that’s home.
I miss being understood. I miss being accepted. I miss being loved.
I had essentially beaten every one of these tweenagers with an aching heart. I had won the prize. I had won Jonathan Taylor Thomas.
You protect your calendar at all costs. You have zero problem telling a fib if it’ll get you out of doing anything other than spending time with your people at home.
He knew that whatever he does he can come home to me with arms wide open, but I’m tired.
You cannot find shelter in my arms for my strengths is not here to hold you.
Home is where you wake up early in the mornings, realizing that it is where life fixed in firm and perfect patterns, indelible and infinite. Ancient and for always, back and forward.