Home

Fresh clothes.

Worn ones.

Moisturiser.

Charger.

Eyeliner.

Earnings. Left them on the side-table by your bed.

The one where I slept with you.

It's quite unbelievable for me that at this very hour yesterday, I had kissed your shoulder as you slept peacefully, your back facing me.

Annoyed at not getting a response, I had rolled over you and kissed your lips.

I loved how unintentionally your grip on my body had tightened and your lips puckered to welcome the next one.

I find it hard to believe that two days ago, at this time, we were eating breakfast that you had made for me.

I have proof that I was there, sure. The tickets, the ache, yet I can't believe that I am here in the house that I've lived in for the past 21 years, yet I don't feel at home.

The only way for me to pacify this task is by hoping that one day the plane ticket will be one way.

One day, I will be home.