I’m Coming Home
By Robina



What’s the best feeling in the world? Where can we find that feeling and how can we hold onto it till the end of days? I’m not sure. I was never sure of things that made me happy; he often asked me and I always said something along the lines of rainbows, kittens – freshly baked cupcakes. Surreal answers that have no significant meaning and it never pleased him. Over time I realized that it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to him to not know about my happiness, it wasn’t fair that I didn’t know my own happiness. Because how could he promise to give me everything I want in life that would cause me to be happy if I didn’t have an answer for that? How could I expect to make me happy if there was no start, no middle and not even end to that feeling for me?

That’s why I left. That’s why I walked away because I needed to find my happiness. I needed to find the core of my being to fully be able to live. But after a while the streets of London started to blend in with eachother and the world became dull. The greatest attractions in life became ordinary and the sun on my face didn’t give me warmth. I was fully aware that I was existing but I wasn’t living and I didn’t know how to live at that point.

I couldn’t go back to where I came from just yet. I couldn’t go back to him and claim that I had found my happiness when all I found was misery. I often found myself thinking back over times spent with him, I found that it soothed me more than it should and it made me find my dreams eventually and wake up in the morning, seemingly fine. That until I realized that he wasn’t near, that I couldn’t share toast in bed with him and cuddle till it was far too late to get up. But the thought of him made me realize why I was doing this.

To make him happy.

By that time I could easily name all the things that made me sad. I once got mixed up with a child who had lost his mother. I spent my entire morning trying to find her, trying to calm him down and his tears had upset me. Seeing other people upset saddened me. I also realized that finding his mother brought me happiness. Other people’s elations caused for my happiness. But was that truly the answer he was looking for?

It once started raining and I didn’t bring my umbrella as I walked through the park. I ruined my favourite pair of jeans that day and though it’s a bit odd to say that ruined clothing items could make one sad; I realized that he was the one who gave them to me. And perhaps that was what made me cry that evening. Because for the time being that was the only thing that I had of him that would keep my semi sane until I found my answers. And maybe that was just it; maybe I was creating my own ache by doing what I was doing. Maybe he should just accept the fact that I wasn’t entirely sure what made me happy. And if he didn’t like that; than perhaps he should leave.

No, he couldn’t leave. That thought only saddened me more. I wasn’t sure what I would do without him in my life. That’s why the next morning I made another attempt to find my happiness by going to the art museum as for some people it was truly inspiring. I was certain there were going to be a few happy paintings scattered around; perhaps they would provoke some sort of feeling and I could attach them to an image. Sadly, that didn’t work.

All the men in the paintings had some sort of tale to tell; yet none of it put me on the right track. All the colours in the abstract paintings said something, but most of them called out sadness to me above anything else. All I could think about was that I missed him. How much I truly missed him. And I think that, that was the moment everything started to make sense; in the middle of the museum I found my answer – a revelation that would probably change my life and bring me back to where I belonged.

Him.

He was my happiness and as long as he wouldn’t leave me I would be happy. And that was the one thing he could give to me; loyalty and his love for the rest of his life, the rest of my life. And I was this stupid to walk away from it; I was as stupid to create my own sadness when waking up next to him was the only thing I truly needed. His smiling face, his deep hazel eyes, his brown hair, his strong hands to hold mind, his hugs to keep me warm and his kisses to make me realize that I wasn’t living a dream. That it was all reality I was experiencing.

I needed to come home. I needed to find him and hold him and never let go. I finally turned on my cell phone that I had shut off for the past five days, realizing that he had called – often – and left message for me, at least a hundred. And all said the same thing; they all stated that I needed to come home because I was his happiness, I was his happiness captured in a human being and he didn’t want to live without me. Like I didn’t want to live without him.

I didn’t hesitate for another minute and I packed up the stuff that I had lying around that small hotel room I have been staying in. Yet the moment I walked outside the less than fancy building he was there. He just stood there, arms crossed, sunglasses on his perfectly shaped face and a smile that said all. “?” I wondered, even though I knew the answer. Everything I felt the first time I saw him; I felt this moment again.

All the butterflies, the wobbly knees, the heartbeat that was unsteady, the blood rushing to my cheeks, the ever lasting urge to giggle like a little girl. I grinned as wide as I could dropped my bags and ran the few steps in his directions, holding on to him with all that I had in me as he did the same. “Don’t ever go again.” He whispered against my hair. “I’m coming home.” I managed to say before we kissed, before we kissed with all the passion we had in us – passion that said all. We can’t find happiness anywhere else than in the people you choose to spend your life with. Whether it’d be the person you love with all your heart, or your best friend who you couldn’t live without. Because even at the worst of times they were going to be there, they were going to hug and kiss you until the world was bright again – and they’d be your happiness.



The End
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