Home...

is it just simply a physical place or is it a feeling too?

Home...

When ex was in the Army we would come home twice a year from Texas. It was a long, long trip but one I looked forward to so very much... and we'd get close and drive the back road to my parent's house and it would feel so good to know we were almost there. It's not so much like that anymore. My folks don't live far from me - about 20 minutes - and while I like to go visit them and love them and appreciate them probably more now than I ever have it's just not the same. It might be the close proximity now but I don't think that's what it is... I think I used to go home and feel the way I did because, like Max in Where the Wild Things Are, it's where I felt loved best of all... and at the time I didn't have my own home... I didn't have a steady, permanent place to call mine - we were sorta nomads at the time and I was young - so very young. Of course, I didn't realize just how young I was at the time, but looking at it from this vantage point I do now. Middle age sure does funny things to you, huh?

I have my own home now... my permanent place on this planet - it's all mine (well at least after umm... several more years it will be) and it's one of the things that didn't change in the divorce. He gave me the house without asking for any compensation and therefore made it possible for the kids and me to stay here (he's had a few decent moments I do admit). This is my place - the place where I am myself... no pretense... no bullshit. At times it's cluttered and it's very small but it's mine - and not because of the physical address. I actually think what makes it home is now it is the place where I am loved best of all - where I am loved by me.

There are times when people in love will describe one another as home. I think I've always understood that... at least in theory - but I don't think I've actually ever really felt it, believed it before now. One of the most stinging things the ex said to me - and believe me there were quite a few painful stings - was that this place, here with us, didn't feel like home to him. It's taken me a long time to understand that - and to realize that it wasn't something I had any control over - I couldn't make him feel at home... couldn't make him feel like I was home. He doesn't like himself, doesn't love himself... so I really don't think there is anywhere on this planet he feels home. He's just a mental and emotional nomad - too afraid to settle in any one place because if he did he might let the mask slip... he might have to be honest - and he just can't do that - someone might see the real him and who would like the real him - right?

I think, though, another person can feel like home to you. I think when you find that other person who loves you as much as you love yourself - that other person who shows and expects no pretense... who doesn't bullshit or accept bullshit... who just is who he is and likes you because you are just who you are... who laughs at himself as much as he laughs at you - I think that's when you find home, when you feel at home. Of course there needs to be attraction and desire and all those fun mating rituals we all get so caught up in... but looking from this vantage point - this ripe ol' age of 42 - I think really there are so few people in this life you can just be you with - rarely does someone see you simply for who you are, and in doing so likes you even more, not less. And I think that's what's desirable and sensual... to me, that's home.