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Maybe that love you thought you lost is just somewhere, not so far from you.

A relationship may not feel like something to be lost without, but I did. I walked around in a daze most of the time, without a sense of belonging. I felt too alone amidst the happenings of the world around me. Months felt endless, and my mistakes stayed with me, dragging hours even longer than they were. This is not to say I lost my sense of self because I was a part of someone else, no, only that becoming a couple was so much better than being by myself, single in every sense of the word.
After the last goodbye, the separation of the tips of our fingers, it felt like part of me had lost who it was. The one my soul called out to, whispered nothings to in both the silence and chaos, suddenly wasn't there anymore. I felt all of it, all that my heart could experience. Then I picked myself back up, forgave what needed to be forgiven, and continued living. But there was still something missing.
Love, purpose, belonging, peace.
As I walked the street to my father's house, nostalgia crept in. The street was filled with memories, happiness, and now, a bittersweet ache. The neighbors had outdone themselves with Christmas decorations. It felt like I was in the middle of an American holiday movie, without the snow, of course. My steps faltered as I got nearer. The gate loomed ahead, polished and gleaming. Mum had mentioned Dad's yearly tradition of sprucing up for the festive season
Dad always liked to show off his Christmas decorations, and the exterior of the house looked new every December-it was tradition. Suddenly, I was at the front of the gate, and before I could press the electric doorbell, someone unlocked it, and the gate sprung open. Dad stood there, phone in hand, giving instructions about a goat. I smiled at the familiarity. He looked startled as he saw me before ending the call and reaching out to envelope me in a grand hug.
"Hello, Daddy."
"My beautiful girl. We didn't think you would come. Your mother will be pleased. How's my girl doing? Come inside, come, come. Be festive with the rest of us. This year is special, a combined party on Christmas morning! Isn't that exciting?"
"Looking forward to all of it."
"Oh, I missed you, girl. Come inside. It's good you're home."
Home. A word I hadn't truly felt in a long time, not since him. But this would suffice.
My mum stepped out of the front door. She must have seen him coming back inside and been overly curious. I could see her huge smile as she recognized who he was holding.
"Leila, how wonderful! We weren't expecting you at all. We weren't sure you would make it. What made you change your mind?"
"Oh, who wouldn't want to come home for Christmas and be around family?" My dad interjected.
"Hello, Mum."
The hug was warm and so tight, I almost didn't want to let go.
The next couple of days went by in a blur of Christmas traditions and memories playing over and over again in my mind. Decorations went up, including the gate, where I first knew I loved him. He'd told me his dreams that day, his voice brimming with joy, his eyes sparkling. We had talked about anything and everything.
The second time, which wasn't really a second time but more of a confirmation of something I knew to be true, he looked me in the eye and said, "I see you" at a time when I felt like I had begun to fade into reality, when I was at my lowest, unsure of myself. His words centered me that cold morning, anchoring me in a way nothing else could.
He was the boy next door, never really the best friend, but the one who was somehow always present and right. He got me flowers one day and wrote me a cheesy poem another. He annoyed me when he pushed me to do better and inspired me when I eventually did better because of his nudging.
"Leila, dear. Where did you drift off to?"
"Oh, nothing, Mum. It's just nice being here, doing all of this with you. This is the real Christmas. I feel like I'll be full just from the smells without eating a bite."
She laughed. "Glad you're enjoying it. Please, get the box of trinkets. They're just by the front door. Your dad must have forgotten to bring them out. Whenever those nephews of yours get him talking, that's the end of it, I tell you."
"They do that to everyone, Mum. That's their superpower."
"Indeed, my dear."
On getting into the compound and approaching the front door, I realized the box wasn't there. I decided to look inside, and there it was, just on the counter by the door where we kept the keys. I grabbed it and turned to go back outside when the door suddenly opened.


---

The first thing I saw was his smile, so joyful and genuine. My heart broke into a million pieces and somehow got mended at the same time. I had forgotten how beautiful he was, how he radiated all that completed me.
This was it.
Belonging-I felt accepted with him.
Comfort-he constituted a lot of my peace.
Identity-he was a reflection of my memories, experiences, and personal journey.
Connection-I was connected to him on every level; he was my family.
Heart-oh, he defined mine.
Home. He was home. And as I looked in his eyes, I saw that he felt the same.