It’s such a common word that people typically associate with their actual house. But the kind of home I’m talking about is spiritual, for lack of better words. And it’s something I crave.

Recently, I reread one of my journal entries that I wrote on a private blog. I have a habit of waking up, writing down my dreams, and passing out again. Usually not remembering at all that I did. The dream was very odd and kind of all over the place (no surprise there). The dream really shed a light on things I lacked. Emotionally, I mean. Things I know I don’t really have but always brush off because I decide they’re not important. Anyways, I wrote something a while back about a person feeling like home. Needless to say, but I’m gonna anyways, it crushed me.

It made me hurt so bad that I wanted to curb up into the security of my weighted blanket and never step foot out of my room again. That person isn’t really in my life anymore. I hate that I remember that dream so vividly. I was getting ready to leave, to go back to an empty house feeling completely unwanted and as an a nuisance. The person had been giving me the cold shoulder and acted as if my presence was an annoyance. I hate feeling like I’m a burden to someone, apparently dream me feels the same way. I was walking out to my car when I see the person trying to fit a bunch of cats in my car.


Let me explain, I am crazy allergic to cats. In small, enclosed spaces my allergies could possibly put me in the hospital. And the person knew that, which is why they were trying to shove cats into my car so that I wouldn’t be able to get in and leave. I was confused and all of a sudden, the person was pulling me in and holding me tight as if they never wanted me to leave. I had thought the person didn’t want me around but in actuality, the person just couldn’t communicate their feelings of wanting me to stay. This person, is home. That’s what I thought in my dream. When I reread the post, I thought about it and maybe that person was home.

I felt happiness there, in their arms. And more importantly, I felt safe and comfortable. It felt like any problem I had would be okay because that person was there to support me. To be my shield, protecting me when I was weak and to be my sword when I was ready to fight. The person was like a sigh of relief after a long and very difficult day. Do you know that feeling? After having a shitty a day and seeing that person that just takes away all that stress. The arms wide open, ready to envelop you like a blanket type of bear hug that makes you feel like everything else is melting away. You’re relaxed, safe, and you can finally breathe again. I miss those hugs and I miss that feeling.

Sometimes our home isn’t a place. Sometimes it’s a person that accepts you wholly and loves you completely. That you can be completely yourself around as scatter and as broken as you are. The feeling that you finally found where you belong. A person(s) that happily walk by your side because they want to and because they want you by theirs. That, is home.

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