Do you remember the very first time it felt normal—home—like we’ve already met some other life time before? I was wearing my Red Shirt. You watched me with curious eyes that hinted a ghost of fascination and admiration; a kaleidoscope of wonder playing like our favorite Taylor Swift song.
Do you wanna get a cup of coffee? I asked.
You smiled inwardly at the close familiarity and commonality we have.
I’d rather it be a brewed coffee. Four creamer, four sugar. You replied.
I felt the connection solidified beyond destruction. A solid fortress that can’t be sledgehammered.
I held you dear since then, like I would hold my treasured shirt so close. I embraced the sweet scent of your honey brown hair and the weird way your brush it that way. I’ve accepted all the series of past—good or bad—and I just keep on falling on every step we take together.
And that was the moment that made us feel at home. That was the moment I knew.