I barely made it through the front door. The tears welling up on the drive from work began to slide down my cheeks the moment I crossed the threshold and closed the door behind me.
Through watery eyes, I looked around this place. This place I’m supposed to call home. But it was void of anything that resembles home.
Home is where your people are; your family and your friends.
But there is no one here. Not my children or my mom. Not my friends or even my dog. No one.