Amidst the rustle of sheets, he looked intently at her and said, "imagine how good it'd be to have a kid together?"
She paused (whatever she was doing, D-Uh!) and looked at him. The pause was because she felt she finally came home.
Years later... She asked him, "Are you pregnant yet?"
He said, "hmm". She asked him again, "Is that a yes or a no?" so she could pump her first in the air. There was a blank look and he forced himself to answer, "hmm".
You see- the concept of home is not something that is with someone else. Home is within us. I am home.
So here's to the bloody freak in me: "Fk-er, I am home". I was always home. And the kid together???? That was just an illusion I conjured up. It never did happen. It was a lie I lived to prove to myself the concept of home. Like reality cinema. A motion picture of the mind I enacted. Complicated much?
Nay.
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