Home

There's a place I call home. Where I could watch her sleeping everyday, so near yet so far. Where I see her playing with her son and say "I love you" to him. Where every morning, with the radio is on, I see her beautifully simple when cooks breakfast. Where he extends his hands just to hug me when he thought that I wouldn't come back. I love his mother. Home is where the heart is.

I'm coming home in 1 month.

But it feels like shit too knowing that there's nobody waiting for you in that home anyway...