'This is now my home, my family is here', I recited silently. They're both sound asleep, my little one and his daddy. I tiptoed out of the room, careful not to make any noise. The wind was picking up and the trees outside the windows cast graceful shadows inside the house.
The shadows resemble my longing to be home, I can try to ignore it but I know it's there. Perhaps it's just another episode of homesickness. 'Home is where the heart is', they say. Why these longings then? I resolved not to find my answer that morning, I needed sleep.
I fixed myself a cup of tea and walked back in the room. The strong winds outside subsided, everything was calm. Someday, I'll be back again. In that place where I grew up, where the sun always shine, the trees are always green and the winds aren't that strong.
For now, I'm with them. My heart is here. This is now my 'home'. Yes, it's not the one I knew. But it's one I can call my 'own'.