It happened.
For the first time in the last couple of years, I returned home happily.
Recalling all those returns when my head was resting on the little window of the plane, looking hopelessly to all the lights and glitter disappearing underneath and sighing... Thinking about what I have been missing and how I have been losing all my days among grey buildings and silent puppets... Regretting every opportunity lost, every risk not taken in hesitation...
For the first time in years, I was relieved to get back home. Not at all fascinated by the lights, nor worried about distancing from the glamorous life...
Not that it is all perfectly planned now, nor I feel much secure or determined. But it's something else, more than I can explain... More of a teenager feeling - that I'm not used to - or of an excitement of heart trembling out of joy.
The touch of a hand, the tenderness of a kiss, the shine on a small teardrop...
Momentary but soothing...
Hushing and putting me to sleep...
