the train station, amidst its hustle and bustle, amidst the loud noises and high, echoing ceilings, offered solace to her. she sat pristine, with an antique bag in her lap, hands folded. she had nothing to say, nothing on her mind, aside from the casual "i just want to go home."
she knew that home wasn't a place for her anymore. no, a physical home had long been stripped from her senses. home for her was something much bigger...home for her was the laughter, the sunflowers. home was the echo of a baby's cry, or the smile on the face of a dear friend. home had become so much bigger than the four walls she'd known her whole life. home had become a state of mind. and although, at times like these, it was difficult to admit, she liked having that kind of home much better - because it meant she was home much more of the time.
yet, even in the swimming thoughts that plagued her mind about where home could possibly be, she knew there was only one place where she felt one hundred percent at home - like she belonged. she could travel the world over and never find a place so safe as this. the smiles, the tears, the music, the deep conversations, the heartache, the long walks to nowhere, the late nights, the questions. the feeling of his smooth skin against her face, the warmth of his hand in hers, the rhythm of his heartbeat as she lay on his chest, the surprise of a brief laugh. the only place she was really home was in his arms.
the train whistle blew violently, and steam erupted everywhere. she fished for her ticket and sprinted to the train, a smile on her face, because she knew that before long, she'd be in the arms of the one she loved...and she'd finally be....
home.
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