Above the rooftops, above us

Some would say Home is a place. Or is it a person? I am talking about a feeling. Feelings are complex. That is what brings spice into the philosophy of describing it. I would dare to say it's a feeling of freedom. A borderless breeze in our hearts we embrace every time we notice a warm hug. Hugs are a compilation of both, freedom and safety in a captive state of our body. A bit contradictory is it? I would say that's the magic of the moment where our soul is flying and at the same time touching the ground. But it would be so easy to say just the feeling. Hm, maybe a sensation, a smell? A smell of fresh-baked bread, a smell of your dad's T-shirt, a perfume of your grandma... Or just the smell of clean sheets in the morning mixed with the sleepy look from your dog by your side... Music, memories, childhood and pancakes. Family gatherings, movie nights, Sundays in the garden, you waiting for me at the corner... Feeling loved, feeling safe... Feeling you? Home is feeling the person who smells like hugs and looks at you like your dog. With this big huge eyes full of hope and commitment. Home is a full heart of lovely faces. Home is breakfast in bed with the view over the rooftops. Home is the book you read for the sixteenth time, the smile to the same movie scene over and over, the song you sing in your head for days on your way to work. Home is life. Life is a miracle. A miracle is meeting you. You who inspired me to take up the adventure and breath above the rooftops, above us. I chose to trust. I spread my arms and fell into a new story. A story which creates my new Home. "V. can you now pleas pass me the butter and stop thinking for a moment? " said he trying to bring back my head in the present and catch my look. " Butter is everything a fly needs to become a butterfly?" - me and my funny jokes as always making you roll your eyes and still smile because of the way I tell them. " Yea with butter everything is easier to swallow, even your silly remarks on a Monday morning V. " - said he standing up and kissing me in my forehead on his way out in the world. " Have a nice day, stay safe ... Should I cook my special pasta for dinner?" - me trying not to think of the possibility of him not coming back tonight. " Why not! But please, stay not too long above the rooftops today!" -shouts out by leaving the apartment. "No, but above us maybe..." - the poet in me. "Buy! Love you..." - he is gone. Is my Home coming back?