Reluctantly, I’m on a bus on my way home to New York from DC.
“Home” is such an interesting word. Is home an actual place or a metaphysical place? I’ve always thought that home was where you felt most at ease, most welcome,( most loved?), most settled. But something happened yesterday that makes me think home can be where you least expect it to be.
I’ve lived in New York City for 10 and a half years. Longer then I have lived anywhere else. I’m a proud New Yorker. It is what I call my home. Then there is my family’s home (which I include my rather large extended family coursed over two states, essentially) from where I am proud to come.
And then, I was being held in the arms of someone I have missed terribly. Someone who I care so very much for, and have since the day I met him (15 years ago?). Someone who I will never lay any claim to other then my heart’s joy at knowing him. And after tripping over myself (literally) at the joy of seeing his long lost face, I managed to find his arms. Another memory that I will add to the savings account I’ve hoarded all these years. There in his arms, I was shocked and surprised to find another “home.”
The night was perfect. We had dinner and talked for hours. I said a lot of things I wanted to say. We both apologized for the things that had happened. For the first time ever, I was comfortable speaking candidly with this man. Being myself because I wanted him to know me. This is someone who at 19, I could barely look in the eye for fear of what he might see. Last night I sat comfortably in his eyes for as long as he would let me.
I don’t know if everyone gets someone like this. I know I have tried to explain how I feel about him and people just don’t seem to get it. But, I wish this for every single human being. He and I are not perfect people. Not by a freaking long shot. But I am a complete person for knowing him. And the thing is (the part no one understands) he and I don’t need to be anything more than whatever we are. That might be my favorite thing about this friendship.
Isn’t that what “home” is supposed to be? Where you feel complete and you come as you are. So in a way, I got to go home yesterday.
Sometimes the path is difficult. And then you take a detour that makes your heart soar. I’m so grateful for the chance to fly…