My home

Maybe home isn’t a place maybe it’s a person

• Short story

								
I used to think  that staying in my room was where I was happiest, it was where I could distract myself from the realities of everything going on in my life. It was where I felt secure, that was until I met him. He was a danger, a darkness always lingering from everything he touched. I never knew what to expect from him. Somehow he was constantly causing me pain and even through all the despair, I had never been happier. The dreamy brown eyes I could never stop staring into. They demanded my attention. He was all I ever wanted yet the thought of him haunted me. I couldn't stay with him but whenever I tried to leave I felt trapped. My feet wouldn't move; they would sink into the ground and the walls felt like they were closing all around me. He was like an anchor no matter where I tried to go I always ended up in the same place. He wasn't stable, I realised that why I loved him I sensed the familiarity to the way my life had always been. One minute I loved him, the next I was filled with hatred yet there was nowhere else I would rather be than with him. 
He was my home, he was my person, so I sat there accepting all of his flaws just as he did mine. Our love story will never have an ending. I loved him when I first met him, I loved him yesterday and I know I will forever love him. He will always be my soulmate, no matter where life takes us.
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