Home and Hope

As I drove over the mountains I became filled with a deep, overwhelming desire for a place I know does not exist. It hit me so hard that I struggled to breathe and tears began to fill my eyes. I down shifted into third to get enough power to make it up this hideously long hill and I told myself to calm down. Inhale, Exhale, Inhale again. My heart was growing even more heavy, drenched in salt water like a dripping sponge. As I reached the top of the hill the sun broke through the sea of clouds and my heart wrung itself out just enough. The sun burned through my window and began to dry my drowning heart. I was not home. I may never be home. But I had gained the smallest piece of home back again and that was enough. The smallest piece of home is hope, and that's really the only piece I need.