Home with a Broken Heater

Sometimes I don’t know if I know love anymore.
Love feels like a familiar unfamiliar territory.
Love feels distant and cold.
Love doesn’t feel like home.

But then comes the unexpected play of string,
the light banters in the morning,
a smile that lights his face,
a giggle that warms my heart.

And I realize that love still feels like home.

Love is home.
One with an occasionally broken heater
that needs to be fixed with giggles, banters, patience, and care

every now and then.


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