She opened the door for me and the first thing she noticed were my eyes. They've been through a lot in one night and morning.

My eyes were tired. It's been a while since they've leaked that many tears. 

It's always comforting to know that there's someone you can come home to. Home, on my opinion, is feeling like you're your complete self. There is just an overflow of happiness when you're home. You become happy about yourself. You are grateful to be born the way you are. Home is being able to do the best and the worst of things and feel accepted. 

I lay down on her bed and the tears started falling again. "I haven't cried this much in a while..." I confessed. She sat down, looked at me and waited. I started talking. She listened. 

I've never quite felt this in a while. I've never felt so frustrated and confused about a person I truly care about. I've never felt so tired yet strong at the same time. Sometimes I wonder if who I am in front of that person is the real me. Most of the time I ask myself why am I even wasting my time on that person. 

I stand next to you, and now, I don't feel anything but cold. It used to feel like home. Now, I don't even know what I'm dealing with anymore and I don't quite understand why it's still there. From the best to the worst and the nothing to confusing...it's too messy. 

So I told her every detail. She understood where I was at and why I was like this. She felt it. So, she leaned in forward, wrapped her arms around me silently and listened to me cry. Home.