Coming Home

I entered my apartment like a bull in a China shop. I whipped the door open and dropped everything loudly on the floor. I didn’t even empty the luggage out of my car. I was done with everything today. I’d spent the weekend with hundreds of healthcare colleagues, learning about esthetic treatments and the technology of the future. Fractional plasma for collagen regeneration, acoustic waves to improve circulation, all these machines utilizing energy/ high frequency waves to cause cellular change. It was fascinating, and each provider had their own niche and perspective on treatment. But with each person also came an energy to adapt to, and a presence floating like a cloud in my personal space. It was exhausting. I’d slept 9 hours a night, and gotten some physical activity in, but each morning I still woke up with a swollen face, feeling like I was dragging 145 pounds of dead weight. 

I got back to my apartment with my face red and puffy from crying. I’d felt such a relief in my car, just sitting in my own energy. Like a space had opened for me to release every piece of debris I’d picked up over the weekend. I felt like it’d accumulated on my back and was sticking on my skin. In that moment I opened the valve I’d held so tight, and let it release in a wave of grief and anger. While I drove, I even contemplated where I’d go; home to Karina or home to Abran? In reality, I didn’t want to see either of them, I didn’t want to see anyone at all. 

I went to both of them anyway.

Karina filled me in on her week as I laid wrapped up on the couch. I’d missed out on her internal realizations, work, her relationship, and what she knew she needed to work on. I listened to her intently, as Abran bursted through the door. He laid on me, his arms wrapped around my body and his cheek pressed against mine. I held eye contact with Karina through the window that his arms formed around my face. If Karina wasn’t as weird as he was, I don’t know how we would all co-exist. But we did these things without batting an eye, it was just another day in the Treehouse (my apt). 

As time went on I felt Abran just melting into me. His heat merged with mine, and I felt myself slow down under the pressure of his body. I was calm, my mind was clear, and a peace settled over me and the whole space around us. I felt tears welt up again, but from a different place. 

“I feel like I’ve been gone a million years,” I told him. I wasn’t referring to the three days I spent in Austin without him, or the 30 years Id lived without this love. I felt like I’d just come home in this moment, to myself. Like I’d been wandering lost for lifetimes, searching for my purpose or my truth, or a little space where I felt that I fit. But here it was, clear as day. In that moment I knew exactly who I was, and I fit so perfectly in this body, and in this time and space. I was home.

Cue: Coming Home by City and Colour