Maybe home is just two arms wrapped around you when you’re at your worst.

Or maybe home is being able to sit with you at your couch and watch you fall asleep.

Home could also just be being able to hear you call my name.

Or is home a place where we could embrace the silence that comes between us and not be bothered by it.

I sometimes feel like home is being able to snuggle in your sheets and listen to the playlist that you have crafted for me.

Home is also when you look past all my flaws and whisper “I love you”.

Home is being able to watch you do what you love the most and the smile that comes from it.

Home is when I can fit my head on your shoulders once again.

Home feels like being covered in your sweater on a rainy day with a warm cuppa in my hands.

Or perhaps home is when you wipe the tears away from my cheeks and give me the cliche but much needed assurance of “everything is going to be ok”.

Home may also be simply being able to hold your hand and play with your fingers like the child I always was when I was with you.

Home may be this and home could be that but without a doubt, home is whenever I’m with you.

(And I have not felt at home in a long while)

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