Home

     Last night's dew hung onto the windshield as I entered my car. 11 PM late night drives had become so normal to me, however this time I was home and not twenty miles away. I was going home to sleep alone in my own bed and not alongside him, whom I had shared the comfort of the L shaped couch for the past two months.

     Five months spending time with one another, three months together and two months of us growing with one another; it was a relationship I had never experienced before. Yes, we may have been unhealthy with our constant on and off, however; we always found our ways back to one another.

     The scent of his Old Spice no longer clings to his clothes he's left behind, just like how the sound of my laughter no longer echos throughout the walls of his home.

     Because, for a while he was my home.

     And my, was that an experience like no other.

     I'm grateful for our extended summer romance. He was my first sober love, rooted in friendship and united through laughter, tacos al pastor, and sleepless nights watching cartoons beside the television.

     It's easier to move on, when you can hate them at the same time. His character become unrecognizable at the end, to the man I had gotten to know during our more serious months; he was no longer sweet and kind. He was the cold, distant man I first met, and that's when I realized there really no going back to the man who once made me feel safe, comfortable, home.

     So, I created a home within myself, without him.