I don’t know what to do.
About the wood floors in my parents home. The toilet I know so well. The place I feel most at peace.
I don’t know how I could ever say goodbye to this place.
The place I know better than anywhere else. The laughs locked away in the walls, somewhere behind the paint. The hundreds of meals… Not knowing they might actually end someday.
I don’t know how I could ever walk away from this place I know so well. I don’t think I really could, if I’m truly being honest.
It’s my home from the world.
My sanctuary from the chaos. The only place I truly can rest and feel at home. Because of the smell.