Home is where the heart is.
I love it when the three of us are all home together at once. Today we're all pottering around doing our thing. Working, thesis-ing, packing, washing...just moving around in rhythms and noises that are familiar and comforting and mundane. Right now Cassie and Andrew are laying together watching a Sia video on her laptop and snuggling. I'm folding washing.
It's nice.
There's a time in your life for everyone; for different families and different connections. Some of those windows are filled with friction and you hurt to be in them; some of them are full of that glutted joy and glow that swells you up and makes you better.
The last ten months I've felt happier, safer, and more loved at home than I have ever felt in my entire life. Cassie and Pandrew have made for me something more than a house or a place to live; they've made a home and a family and safe place. A sanctuary that I knew I had for sure; a certainty in the rocky rapids of this year.
I'm not scared to leave next week, but I'm so sad to leave. My new home will be something else, something new, but it won't be just exactly this. And I'll probably never live with them again, and that's how it has to go, and is for the best. We're grownups that go our separate ways. But we've also shared laughter and sadnesses and stresses and silliness that bonds us together; memories.
We probably won't get to properly spend time together because of the way things are with everyone's commitments before I go. That's life, and I don't mind. We won't be far away - just over a block. We won't go to sleep in the same house any more, though. And I'll miss that.
I know in years to come I'll always look back on this time with great fondness and much love for them both. I'm grateful that they've taught me what home could be. Calm, safe, conflict-free, fun, supportive, silly, nurturing, reliable.
They're good people; the best. And I love them both and hope that they keep well, keep safe, get what they want out of life, stay together if they can, and keep in touch.
It's nice.
There's a time in your life for everyone; for different families and different connections. Some of those windows are filled with friction and you hurt to be in them; some of them are full of that glutted joy and glow that swells you up and makes you better.
The last ten months I've felt happier, safer, and more loved at home than I have ever felt in my entire life. Cassie and Pandrew have made for me something more than a house or a place to live; they've made a home and a family and safe place. A sanctuary that I knew I had for sure; a certainty in the rocky rapids of this year.
I'm not scared to leave next week, but I'm so sad to leave. My new home will be something else, something new, but it won't be just exactly this. And I'll probably never live with them again, and that's how it has to go, and is for the best. We're grownups that go our separate ways. But we've also shared laughter and sadnesses and stresses and silliness that bonds us together; memories.
We probably won't get to properly spend time together because of the way things are with everyone's commitments before I go. That's life, and I don't mind. We won't be far away - just over a block. We won't go to sleep in the same house any more, though. And I'll miss that.
I know in years to come I'll always look back on this time with great fondness and much love for them both. I'm grateful that they've taught me what home could be. Calm, safe, conflict-free, fun, supportive, silly, nurturing, reliable.
They're good people; the best. And I love them both and hope that they keep well, keep safe, get what they want out of life, stay together if they can, and keep in touch.