Forever, all hundred years
It’s not uncommon that I find myself thinking of him and I finding an apartment or something. It doesn’t have to be big. It doesn’t have to be anything I dreamed it to be.
He is strangely overwhelming and overpowering. And not in a bad way. The way that he becomes the only person in a city of millions whenever he picks me up from home is beyond my understanding. He is soft and homely. He is soft and gentle and I hate parting with him.
I love seeing him talk about the things he loves and trying my best to learn about them. I’m trying to grasp everything about them so I don’t miss a thing. From vampires to monster-slayers in deep mountains, from the oddly shaped Pokémon and trying to memorize which items to use, I never want to miss a thing.
He brings the absolute best of me. I want to step up my cooking game and make sure that he gets everything that he deserves. I can only aspire to be as good as he thinks I am.
I often think that my home is no longer my home. I think that during this time he spent healing my wings, I found that he is my home and it’s time to set sail on our own.
He is not my home in a way you can call your mom’s place your “home”. He is my home in the sense that my heart feels at peace wherever we are.
He became my light and one of my bigger reasons to move forward and go on. He became my light and a reason to wake up better in the morning. Because finally, there is a place to go back home.