She speaks to me in the secret language of lovers, singularly specific to our own bread of magic. The kind of magic that keeps loneliness at bay when one is alone. I understand that home is not a place, but an idea that I can carry with me when I begin to feel lost and when I long for a change of action (and reaction,) it is her words I understand most: that soothing knowledge of wisdom (for I only know it exists; I have never experienced it myself.)

My soul is lighter for it.