As I go about my days lately, I realize I have to go home…to myself. I must leave my own light on—waiting to greet me when I return late at night—foresee that need for a beacon in the darkness, and plan ahead for evening time. I have made peace with this, in that I have, can, and will go home every day, with peace and assurance of ability—and independence initiated by an unwanted absence, yet one that is ever a bittersweet shadow in the background…mostly sweet though, I choose the honey over the hive~
Home, yes…but I still miss my roommate, my best friend, and my person. This is honest.
This is right---and well---and good…because I know-- deep down--- if I didn’t miss and ache with every fiber of my being, then I would question if I ever truly loved at all…and I did---I really, really did.
And I do…..I really, really do.
I am choosing to be grateful--to be home (again)…and I pray and look forward to moving into a new sanctuary one day (soon is my honest hope)…one that is filled with much more light, a lot more laughter, and a limitless lightness of being…with my roommate.
I will hold my own—decorate this home---with vivid color and bright, hope-filled patterns of stars—rainbows of promise, ridden by lions and fairies—but mostly butterflies---fresh born from their battle with that cocoon—able to rest now--the struggle having brought them back to their source…and in these new bodies, winged, beautiful beings that they are—these creatures created to fly—will be~
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