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Home Is Where the Heart Is

There’s one place that I like to go when I’m feeling the pressure of life, when I’m feeling blue, when there’s so much stress going on around me. That place is home. I’m not talking about a place with four walls, flooring and a roof. I’m talking about someone. I consider him home. In his presences, I feel the safest. The happiest. Most content with life. It’s quite funny how people find comfort in others than they do their own house. There’s just something about his blue eyes. The way he laughs when I make a god awful joke, that no one in the world would find funny, but for some reason he laughs at them anyways. Or the way he looks at me when I’m doing something, whether that be cleaning, on my phone or simply watching a movie. The way his tone changes when he goes from being excited, to happy, to sad and angry. I know him better than I know the back of my hand. I will not question why I consider him home, or why I feel okay being around him when I’m not in a good mindset. I will accept it. They say I’m too young to know what love is, to not know what being in love truly means; but I will continue to deny that statement. When someone takes away all the bad in life and makes you feel like you’re floating in cloud nine, then I am aware of the way I feel towards someone. That is where I go when I feel the pressure of life taking over, home.




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