Home is where the heart is. Right? That is what they say, but what about when your heart is broken? Where is home then?
My husband, a man who I have been with for almost 16 years (13 of which we have been married) tells me that he has decided that he no longer loves me and therefore no longer wants to be married to me. He doesn’t demand a divorce, he just tells me that whether or not I want it to happen it is going to and I need to accept it, move out and move on as soon as possible. In an instant the place that was my home (and the ONLY home that my son had ever known) became an alien planet where I could barely breathe and everything that should have been comfortable and familiar became terrifying and uncertain.
My son and I have been in our new place for almost 6 months now, but it still isn’t home, at least not to me. I don’t think it ever will be and to be honest I don’t really want it to be. (Not that what I want really seems to matter much these days.) All of that aside the question remains — If home is where your heart is then what about when your heart is broken?
I’m sure there are people who are going to say “Ok, so ‘Home is where the heart is’ doesn’t work for you. What about ‘Home is where you hang your hat’?” My initial response (absolutely dripping with sarcasm and acid) is — I don’t wear a hat. As a more serious response — while my son and I do have a place to live, even though it is not ideal, it is comfortable and will hopefully work as a stepping stone toward something that provides everything that I am looking for in a place for us to live. (Honestly I’m not looking for too much more than what the current place has to offer, and I am REALLY NOT looking forward to moving again, but there are a few key things that I am doing without that I would like our next place to have.)
I’m not literally homeless and in-spite of its shattered state I am not heartless either, but since any repair to my heart could take years or longer how am I ever supposed to find or at least feel at home again?