How do you build a home?
The answer to that question has always been a subjective one. I would say there never is a correct answer to that one. Many have tried answering it – and I would say all of them have succeeded in their own wonderful manner.
Many people have found solace in variety of places – Bruce Wayne found it behind a waterfall in a cave, Clark Kent found it hidden in the polar ice caps, Hancock found it on benches of New York., Diana prefered it in a world hidden from men, a bunch of turtles found it in the gutters of America.
Someone asked me, where is your home?
Well, my journey to home is a long one – from her white car to two separate blocks to a single room, it has always been about her and the place she wants to call a home. For me, it has always been about the little moments of joy and those memories which I can cherish when I grow old with her – if a place can provide those then that is home!
Remember the times when you first tried cooking together- when it all starts with a promise of making x but it ends to be y but yet you enjoy it. Or when it’s all about taking the cleaner and rubbing your weekend to cleanliness – that sure deserves a pizza to top it up. Or maybe just those relaxing days where you never switch on the light and let go of the blanket – a good sleep never bothered anyone.
But nothing can beat the days when you get your cheap thrills on and it’s just alcohol, chicken and some music to pump up your nights.
Sometimes, more than the perfect place or items, you really need that perfect someone to build a house – whether it’s spending money everyday to fix things or to take those daily trips to the supermarket because making a list is too old fashioned.
But perfect has its own definitions too. Perfect is when you fight about what food should be made, perfect is when you argue about which side of bed is yours, perfect is when you just can’t stand each other on few days, perfect is when you give each other the cold shoulder – and perfect is when deep down you know no matter how curved the edges are – you are the two pieces that fit. together.
These tales will be embedded in the curtains when you leave, the walls will echo your shouting on each other days, the floor will resonate from the days you tapped your feet together and your eyes will shed a tear – when you will lock the door for one last time.
That is when you know you are leaving a home that you both built together – a home that I built with her.
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