As a kid everyone has played with the idea of building a home. Be it in the form of pitching a tent and pretending to camp or (the more 'girly') serving tea, playing good host to a bunch of other kids.
The need to feel safe and comforted, the need to call something your own, the need to find your comfort zone, the need to call a place home, sets in early in life.
Over time, this transforms into a person.
A person becomes your comfort zone. A person becomes...your tent, your make-belief cave, your comfortable dark corner under the table. That place where you seek refuge every once in a while when all else seems lost.
Coming back to that person feels like homecoming.
Although you resort to seeking that kind of comfort rarely, knowing that both people get as much solace from such moments is, weirdly, satisfying.
Much like nuzzling in the lap of a loved one after a long, tiring day.
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