I looked at her and realized something; she wasn’t the other half of me. I was not a half, and for that I needed to find the whole of my heart for her, and me. My heart isn’t split in the way where one person would make it whole with their love, my heart is split in the way where in order for me to love and be loved I needed to find the other half of the part that loves me, and accepts the person I am. I have found that part of me, the part where I see myself and feel content. It’s been a long time since I’ve been happy with my physical aspect of myself, but I found that peace through her and me. I looked at her and realized how I could explain the way I feel about us, about her. “You aren’t the other half of me,” The look of confusion evident on her face made me second guesses my approach. :What I mean is, I don’t want you to be the other half of my heart, that would mean I am never whole when I’m without you. What I need is for you to be its home, because then I know I’ll always find my way back to you. If you’re my heart’s home I can promise you one thing, I will trust you to handle it with care, I will trust you to protect it and keep it safe from the storms. And with that you can trust me to be loyal, and know that I’ll always find my way back home. You can rest peacefully knowing that I will protect and fight of any demons that try to invade or take away my home from me, because home is where the heart is and my hearts with you.” The expression of disbelief and shock appeared over her features.
“Was that a good answer?” I asked cautiously, she looked at me and took my hand in hers, as she placed it over our home.