I stretch out on the kitchen floor and press my face right up against Cooper’s. We blink emphatically in our own secret code, and I laugh out loud and kiss each paw when he suddenly licks my face. You turn from a watched pot to see what just happened, and you can’t help but laughing too. Yea, this feels like home.
You dig out one of our good bottles of wine, no doubt at this point buried beneath our rag tag collection of cookie cutters and two-dollar Christmas wrap, and we toast to a week that was big. A week of stretching and being stretched. Of pressing our faces right up against Fear. And not being the first to blink. To a week still so full of the possibility of changing everything. But for now, we just feel like home.
I lean into you and you lean back, and we stab at our three cheese raviolis. You turn on old episodes of Coupling on the BBC, and I hear us laugh at all the same parts. A Christmas Cookie candle still stands on the end table even though it’s nearly the end of February, and you give me a hard time about it. And I can’t help but laugh too. And just like that with your arm around me and Cooper’s face in our laps, sitting in the middle of our house I know…
This just feels like home.
**Connect w/ Justin & Mary