Echoes in the Hallway

Home isn’t just bricks or a big wooden door, or rugs on the hallway or squeaks on the floor. It’s more than a roof that keeps out the rain, or walls that protect us from the wind and our pains. Home is the place where I kick off my shoes, and don’t have to worry about winning or losing. It’s where I can laugh way too loud if I want, or cry without feeling like I need to flaunt. It’s hearing my name being called from down the hall, or someone who catches me if I were to fall. It’s dinner together, just talking and stuff, and sometimes the food might be simple or tough. Blankets and pillows are all cozy and warm, a safe little spot in the middle of a storm. It’s board games, movies, staying up late, and arguing over what sport to spectate. Home isn’t perfect, sometimes people fight, and doors might close a little too tight. But sorry gets said, and hugs come back soon, like clouds moving off of the face of the moon. Home is the place where I’m okay to be me, not trying too hard to be someone you see. It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s silly, it’s fun, it’s love at the end of each day when it’s done. So home isn’t just where my house happens to be, it’s where my heart feels happy and free.