the place i call home

i'm happiest when i'm resting with my head in his lap and he's stroking my hair. just brushing it gently out of my face and smoothing it over and over again. nothing makes me feel more at peace or more loved. that, above all else, is what i miss most.

tonight i was quite lonely from a day spent in solitude. by the time he returned home at four in the morning i felt positively morose. i told him so when he came in to say hello and good-night. he kissed me on top of the head, then he sat next to me on the bed and stroked my hair for awhile. i haven't felt so comforted in months. it's nice to go home, especially when you think it's burned down.