Home was once stranger an empty building without any memories. It’s walls were intact, doors and windows too. As time went by, home became a friend, it started to fill up with laughter and wine stains on the carpet. Finally home became a part of me I never knew I had. It reflected my insight and wit, I was in love with the feeling…it was like a warm piece of pie on a cold Sunday morning. Like an episode of my favourite series I could have playing on and on.
My heart didn’t skip a beat instead every bit of the rhythm it played told a story to the walls of my house. They say home is where the heart is, however I feel home is a piece of heart that you can open to the rest of the world. Sometimes it can be the only shadow of peace you have left and in that case, you’ll find it a little harder to open your doors to everyone else.Whatever it is, home we’ll always be where love lives, a warm fire to melt away your anxiety and a light to keep away the evening fright.
You are my home, my happy place.