When I found home that day

When I saw you, my feet felt heavy. Like the pavement was too far to take a step. I knew you were saying something because I could see your lips part to form words. But for some reason, at that given moment, my hearing failed me. You sounded muffled and everything else looked blurry. I was sure I was not about to faint. I knew it was a feeling like my soul had finally met its long-lost friend.

You stood there in front of a bright red pickup truck, with your messy crazy differently colored hair and brown John Lenon Rayban sunglasses. Tattered jeans that made you look handsomely beaten, but I was sure you smelled good. When you smiled and even if I couldn’t see your eyes, I knew I was in a strange place. Because I felt something stir for you! Right then and there, my mind and heart raced. It argued in ways unimaginable. Logic and emotions fought their battle while I stood there transfixed by all that was happening. I could hear my heartbeat a little faster. Breathing was easy but somehow, I held my breath.

“Why?”, I asked!

When you said, “Wait! I have something for you.” I looked at how you moved. You were like a tiger marking a territory. Gracefully but very sure! Forgiveness was the name of that little bottle I held in my hand. How ironic was it that day? I was angry at someone, but you perhaps made me realize that no matter how angry I could be, I need to find a start to forgive.

I’ve always wondered why you feel so familiar. I tried looking for a reason or a word perhaps to describe it all. But the only word that keeps coming back is HOME. You are home. I am home!

I found home that day.