"Home is where the heart is," they say, a comforting phrase that rolls off the tongue like a well-worn melody. But in the quiet moments of introspection, I find myself questioning its simplicity. No, home is where you feel safe when your heart fails.


It’s not just the walls that shelter you or the familiar scent of old books and warm coffee. It’s the sanctuary created by those who understand your vulnerabilities, who hold space for your fears and dreams alike. Home is the embrace that wraps around you when the world feels too heavy, a refuge from the storms that threaten to unravel you.


In those fragile moments when my heart trembles under the weight of disappointment or loss, it’s not just a place I seek; it’s the presence of someone who sees me—who knows my scars and loves me still. It’s the laughter shared over late-night conversations, the quiet understanding in a glance, and the warmth of hands intertwined during moments of uncertainty.


Home is where I can lay bare my soul without fear of judgment, where I can breathe deeply and let my guard down. It’s a feeling that wraps around me like a soft blanket, reminding me that even in my darkest hours, I am never truly alone.


So yes, while home may be where my heart resides, it is also where I find solace when it falters—a sacred space where love and safety intertwine, allowing me to rise again.


photo by yours truly
© aubby.krrn