Home is where the heart is

Of all the places I've been to lately...

I felt at home wherever I was, as long as I was following my heart and as long as I was with the one I loved.

His arms became my home. My home became his arms. 

They felt safe, but also a lot of fun. 

It's where I could live and dream without a worry.

No matter where I was or what I was going through, it felt right, it felt comfortable.

I built my home over time and believed it was strong enough to conquer the world. 

But the problem with building a home with someone is that you don't get to decide on everything. 

And so obviously, one day, it fell apart. 

There was nothing I could do for my broken home. 

My favorite place in the world became inaccessible. 

His embrace was my home no more. 

I became homeless, broken and lost.

It is much harder to build a home alone... and it inevitably gets lonely from time to time. 

Will it always feel like there's something missing?