Written on May 19, 2016

Writing prompt: Where is home for you?
From Old Friend from Far Away by Natalie Goldberg

My home is in the arms of someone who loves me, my co-creator in life, holding me in a backwards hug, with my back pressed against his chest, his arms tight around me, his mouth by my ear, speaking softly to me as his breath moves the little wisps of my hair so that they tickle my temple.

I feel so secure there. I feel safe. The one place where you must absolutely feel safe is Home. He is my home, so wherever he is, I am home.

He is my home, so wherever he is, I am home.

He makes a home with me, or maybe I make a home with him. There’s a difference between the two and the difference is in how we work with each other to do this, who settles into whom more, flowing into every little crevice available to fill, sealing the fissures of each other’s hearts where they have been ruptured by previous heartbreaks, cracks in the soul (if a soul can have cracks?) where dreams have failed or were lost, where poor decisions have been made, where you have been lost yourself and now you are found, your feet on solid ground beneath you because of him who grounds you, places you, at home. In your home of him.

It’s ironic that he with whom you find home has broken down your walls. He wrecked something destitute, dark, drafty, cracked, and falling over in order to give you something stronger, solid, whole, warm, bright, and full.

My home is tucked inside the chambers of his heart.

This is where home is for me. My home is tucked inside the chambers of his heart.