I have known passion in love.
unrest, struggle, lust, confusion, and the deep desire to save.
I have known a reckless love, a feverish love, a love that was needy and abusive and toxic and changing.
but home is different.
home is where you go when the world is on fire.
home is where you can be holistically naked and safe and breathe easily once the door shuts behind you.
home is the exhale after all the terror ends.
home. is what I’ve been waiting for.
home is what I will keep waiting for.
the search for home is worth the sleepless nights and the tear stained mornings.
home is worth the loneliness and ache.
home is worth leaving the destruction and dysfunction behind for. because everything else is up and down and high and low and aching and never lasting.
home is where you go to rest.
and love.
and love.
and love.
and the fear never eats you alive in the middle of the night that maybe you’re loving the wrong person.
home is… where the peace and tenderness meet in all aspects.
home is the knowing that the wait is over.
everything else is fleeting.
home is the destination. you know home the moment you step into it. and I will know you the very same way.
(I wrote this about a week before I met Logan. My soul knew he was close. I’m forever in awe of the strength of the universe in me to hold out until I found the purest home in this universe.)