i found one—
far from the mess i was drowning in.
a place that truly felt like home.

where i didn’t have to pretend i was okay
when i wasn’t.
where someone cared
if i had eaten,
if i had slept,
if i was really okay.

where i didn’t have to fake a smile
because being there
was the reason i could finally smile for real.

where it was okay to cry,
where i could tease him
and laugh like a child again.

where i didn’t need to explain my silence—
he understood it.
where i was loved
for being the strange, soft,
messy version of me—
no masks, no judgment.

where i wasn’t alone,
where my tears had a shoulder to land on,
and his voice
could quiet every storm inside me.

that’s the home i found—
not a place,
but a person.