They say, home is where your heart is. I thought I had somewhere I could call home, where I always could take my refuge and feel save and protected, when the world is just way too malicious for me.
It's very funny, when you suddenly have to crush and let go of every dream and aspiration idea you have built from scratch. You have been building them carefully with each breath and step you had taken, that in the process you'd really come to believe that they could have come true. In a way, you even believed that they were your close reality.
So I heard, that home is where your heart is. I thought I have found a place where my heart resides. Somewhere I could always go to, whenever I am in distress; somewhere I would be overjoyed by the abundance of love; somewhere I would always know, that I always could wrap myself up with layers of layers of that warm and fuzzy unconditional love.
It's achingly hilarious, that you just need a weak blow of wind to destroy the castle of cards you have painstakingly built. You'd be very much angered by the destruction, eventhough you have already known deep down, that a palace made of cards is not a real palace, it has no foundation, it can not stay standing tall, it isn't strong. But despite all that knowledge, you would be terribly angry looking at your palace smashed down into just unworthy cards.
Home is where your heart is. Where could I find a haven, where I could place my heart safely without having to be afraid of that gush of wind, that could wreak havoc and force me to crush and let go of all my dreams?
Perhaps home is where my heart was; or will be
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