A Home

Even as you took yourself away and left your family (and me) behind, I put down roots. The day you moved to DC was the day I put in an offer on a house. And I got it. I have a home.

And yet, as the whirlwind of it calms and the waiting game proceeds, I find myself thinking about you again. I had a dream the other night about falling in love with a male friend of mine. It's not like that with him; not at all. But the entire falling in love sequence...that was you. That was my heart, crying out for you again.

I had it planned. When you moved, the next day, I would text you.

"I need you to know three things:

I fell in love with you.
That day in Chicago was the happiest of my life.
No one has ever looked at me the way you did, or spoken directly to my heart like you.

I don't think I will ever feel these things again. I don't think I want to. I will miss everything about you, for always."

Sometimes, I still want to tell you. Then again, sometimes I think it would be a waste of time. You probably wouldn't even reply. Or, worse, if you did, you would apologize again.

Yes, I am thrilled to get a house. Yes, I am happy to finally feel like I've accomplished something in my life. 

But without you, and knowing the future we should have had...I ache. You were all the home I needed.