What's HOme?
I am but fallible flesh, flickers and sighs encased in soft weak warmth.
Memory is a lovely sparkle of sea glass and a thousand tiny grains of crushed shore beside it rushing through my fingers like I’m an hourglass that was never completed properly.
Shining communities of light glow like a tapestry of stars on a soft deep velvety past, but they’re as unreachable as the stars I sleep under every night.
Sweet friends from forever ago, you live in my heart.
But the edges of many of your faces are fuzzy. Details of what we had are but a warm blur. I miss you as much as I miss being able to be there with you in crystal-knife-sharp glassy detail.
I want to remember you all but it feels like I lose pieces of you every time I do.
I can’t lose any more of you.
Distance and time and countless unknowns lie between us now, and I hope you can feel my love across each chasm I cry out over.
But this time I don’t want to stare out across a hazy void like the rest. This time I was welcomed into a home we all built together like every time and this time I want to do it justice and build a home around it, nesting parentheses and ceramic bowls and plastic bags around travel makeup cold from the cargo hold on the plane, around and around, I want to hold this. Hold what held me. Mark the universe in shining sharp detail where my memory will soften.
Wouldn’t you want a locket of infinite depth to hold a home after being forced by time and fallible thought to abandon so many?
Come with me. Build with me. See this palace almost untouchable by time. Know my love lives here, like it did everywhere before and will everywhere after.
This is proof I was held, and loved.