I asked her to tell me what she wished for.
"I want to go home," she whispered.
"Isn't this your home?" I asked confused.
She shook her head,
her hand reached out to hold mine gently.

"Home is comfort even when things don't go your way. Home is a place to hide when you're tired of running. Home is a place to be yourself without feeling judged. It's where you feel safe."

"So are you saying you aren't home?"
"Yes, that's exactly what i'm saying," she said, on the verge of tears.