Today’s prompt: What is home?
Home is walking through the doors and leaving all pressures, all standards and requirements at the entrance. It’s being free from prying eyes and worrying if you’ve accidentally pulled your socks over your leggings. It’s being free from dreading another human being talking to you or asking you a question when you’re just trying to get home please leave me alone.
It’s taking off your hijab, it’s taking off any fancy clothes, it’s taking off the uncomfortable shoes and it’s changing into baggy sweatpants and a hole-ridden hoodie. It’s giving yourself a head massage and tying your hair back up, washing your face of grime and pollution and freeing yourself from the worry that there’s lipstick on your teeth, or that your foundation is sliding off.
It’s grabbing all the snacks you can find and falling down onto the sofa in a blanket. It’s turning on the tv and watching cartoons whilst stuffing your face with sausage rolls, crisps and yoghurt after a day of carrying yourself with an air of dignified wisdom. It’s whinging, howling with laughter and burping out loud after a day of stifling your sneezes and being careful not to laugh too loud.
It might be walking in to a zoo, a mixture of shrieking, shouting, screaming siblings and a parent telling them to shut up because ‘I’m trying to watch tv’ or ‘I’m trying to work’. But it’s being able to put some headphones in and be as ugly and isolated as you like without the fear of someone interrupting your solitude because everyone at home knows you like it.
It’s singing out loud at the top of your lungs, singing to yourself, singing to someone else. Singing, always. It’s practicing a song on your instrument of choice and perfecting it, not caring how crap your mistakes sound in the process because all you care about is how fast you’re learning. It’s not even thinking about being embarrassed because you’re much too comfortable at home.
It’s taking a shower and freshening up only to jump into a bed that may or may not have been made, but that is calling you nonetheless. It’s getting to fall asleep to the best thoughts, or maybe even crying yourself to sleep at the worst. Either way, it’s a place of safety, it’s comfort.
I spend my whole life wanting to go home.
Now Playing: Brothers in Arms – Dire Straits