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Home. Home, home, home, home, home.
There are very few words in the world that sound better than that right now, very few concepts that feel better, and almost nothing that I can think of that would be more valuable. I am home, and it feels better than I had ever imagined.
Away is fun and exciting and different, but it will never compare to home. My house, my husband, my cats, my bed, my world in miniature. It feels safe and comfortable and right and I'm relaxing parts of me I didn't even know I had been holding tight for six weeks. It's like finally taking off a pair of shoes that you've been wearing for a long time, that were just a little bit too tight.
Home means knowing where everything is, and not having to worry about asking if you can use it or move it or borrow it. It means your own music, whenever you want to listen to it, your own books on the shelves, your own programs on the computer, your own channels on TV, your own bed and pillows and chairs that know the shape of your body. It means your favorite foods in the refrigerator, and knowing the sounds the house makes at night, and knowing where you are when you go outside, and what's in the area to do or see, and where the stores you need are. Home means being able to walk around the house naked without worrying, and being able to shout your thoughts across the house to your husband, and knowing that your favorite tea is on a shelf in the kitchen. Home means that my friends are here, and that I'll be able to see them soon.
Home is a lot of good things.
Of course, this past weekend was a great screaming heap of goodness and fun, in more ways than I had expected. Being petted and cossetted and made much of by friends I don't see near often enough is a marvelous special treat, and for the first time since October I finally had enough hugs, and Brassy's Men is always a technicolor carnival of roleplaying treats - this mini-session was, admittedly, the part of the carnival where I binged on candied angst until I was almost ready to throw up, but that's still somehow enjoyable in an undescribable way, at least in part because of the people bringing me the treats and binging on them with me.
But as much fun as it was, it's still damn good to be home.
There are very few words in the world that sound better than that right now, very few concepts that feel better, and almost nothing that I can think of that would be more valuable. I am home, and it feels better than I had ever imagined.
Away is fun and exciting and different, but it will never compare to home. My house, my husband, my cats, my bed, my world in miniature. It feels safe and comfortable and right and I'm relaxing parts of me I didn't even know I had been holding tight for six weeks. It's like finally taking off a pair of shoes that you've been wearing for a long time, that were just a little bit too tight.
Home means knowing where everything is, and not having to worry about asking if you can use it or move it or borrow it. It means your own music, whenever you want to listen to it, your own books on the shelves, your own programs on the computer, your own channels on TV, your own bed and pillows and chairs that know the shape of your body. It means your favorite foods in the refrigerator, and knowing the sounds the house makes at night, and knowing where you are when you go outside, and what's in the area to do or see, and where the stores you need are. Home means being able to walk around the house naked without worrying, and being able to shout your thoughts across the house to your husband, and knowing that your favorite tea is on a shelf in the kitchen. Home means that my friends are here, and that I'll be able to see them soon.
Home is a lot of good things.
Of course, this past weekend was a great screaming heap of goodness and fun, in more ways than I had expected. Being petted and cossetted and made much of by friends I don't see near often enough is a marvelous special treat, and for the first time since October I finally had enough hugs, and Brassy's Men is always a technicolor carnival of roleplaying treats - this mini-session was, admittedly, the part of the carnival where I binged on candied angst until I was almost ready to throw up, but that's still somehow enjoyable in an undescribable way, at least in part because of the people bringing me the treats and binging on them with me.
But as much fun as it was, it's still damn good to be home.
