QUOTE : Thank you for coming home,” I tell her, unable to hold back the words.<br /><br />Home. Does she realize how many times I’ve referred to wherever we rest our heads as my home? I hadn’t meant to betray myself that way, but I can’t seem to stop. I want her to know what she means to me, and yet the sensation of exposing my heart is so foreign, I find it hard to breathe as she stares at me.<br /><br />But her expression goes soft, her brown eyes shinning. Relief is liquid cool along my tight muscles as she reaches up to tuck my hair back from my brow.<br /><br />“You came home first.”<br /><br />I didn’t have a home until she came into my life. She gave me one without hesitation, as if she’s been waiting for me all this time, knowing I was meant to be hers. I touch her cheek just to remind myself she’s real.