Home...

Home is a big word for me. In my entire life, I’ve rarely lived in one place for very long, and not in the cool nomadic adventurous way. More in the childhood in abject poverty in America way. Even as an adult, circumstances always seem to arise that lead me to move around so much so that I haven’t ever been in a single dwelling for more than about three years at a time. For a very long time, that was something that hurt, to feel like I had nowhere that was mine to call home. Then I had a realization. While the place I live may be transient, the people I love, the rare ones that will be a part of me forever, they’re my home. Then I met you and realized that, while I’d been building a home in my world of the people I love, you feel like Home.

From the moment you came around the van and fell into my arms, I felt it. I mean, I was pretty certain before then, but in that moment, I knew with the same certainty that I know the sky is blue and the grass is green. On that last morning, lying together at dawn, you told me you knew the same thing. And so, since then, we’ve been working at learning the shape of it, how we fit into the world together, and building in our minds the Home that we will, I hope, inhabit the rest of our life together. You are Home to me, wherever we happen to be living. As long as I’ve got you, I’m Home. I love you, my sweet, beautiful, amazing girl, now and always.