Homes are the most important part of your fundamental soul, a home is more than just four walls. a home isn’t just something you dream of and get, it’s not browsing a fancy showroom and picking a beautiful interior. A home is something you  build; blood, sweat and tears go into a home. A home is somewhere filled to the brim with memories, laughter, loss, chatter, pain, happiness, aspirations, safety. a home metaphorically speaking is love, when evolving, expanding and moving your home is what keeps you rooted, somewhere you always know you can go at the end of a hard day or the start to a good one, your home is always the place to start or finish. Secrets and stories run through the veins in the walls, hidden deep within. On the outside appearing idealistic but there's always more to a home, like an onion there's layers; foundations, wood, insulation, cement, brick, plaster, paint. In all those layers, there's tiny cracks and inside those cracks is us, we spread out everywhere like blood in a labyrinth. We ooze out into all of these fractures and make them whole, we make the layers tighter and firmer and ready for more layers of colour and fabric. My house was never a home, but you were my home, we were my home. 

You taught me to talk about the things, that I would never have shared with a soul, you taught me to laugh instead of cry, you taught me that i was special enough for anything, you taught me how to love when I never thought I would. You taught me that houses aren't always homes and that homes don’t always have to be houses. The special thing about our home is that its foundations are made from me and you rather than cement and weeds. No one will ever be able to feel the stories in our floors or understand the pictures on the walls, they won’t understand all the fractures in the stairs or the broken glass, we might not understand them either but one thing that I do understand is that our home will forever be ours and will always be there, once you build a home you can’t destroy it. It may get old and the storms will brew and batter it, they can break and hurt it, the sun can beam down on it and nourish the sweet green grass but it will always be there, standing tall weather vacant or alive because this home is ours and I’ll never forget it, were connected like the pipes in it’s walls and chasing you is like the clouds in the sky but I hope one day I catch you and this home will be our forever.