Coming Home

You pull up to your driveway and park where you've always parked and turn the ignition off. All you can do is stare at your driving wheel, the usual motion of grabbing your bag and exiting your car to enter your home seemed like a daunting task. "C'mon, you've done this a million times before." you quietly tell yourself in an effort to prep talk your way inside. With the engine of the car still subtly ringing in your ear, you spend the silent moment contemplating what's wrong. You've replayed the day in your head several times over, trying to pinpoint the exact moment you felt the way you do now, but every guess seems as as baseless as the last. You give up on trying to analyze yourself for the moment, "Maybe later when I feel better." you tell yourself. The confidence that you'll get better creeps into your mind as your eyes catch a picture resting on your dashboard, nudged between the creases.

It's of a woman, dressed in a pink blouse and a sunhat wrapped with a red bow with her light orange hair hanging beneath. There's a field behind her dotted with people in the distance, and she's giving the camera a smile so bright it's giving the sunlight radiating around her a run for it's money.

You stare at the image for a bit, feeling a sense of emotional strength building up within you. You stare at the window of your house, seeing a shadow move across it, knowing very well who's waiting for you inside. You take one last look at the photo, taking in the beaming smile, knowing why that smile is there. "Do it for her, Anon" you tell yourself, only once is all you needed to tell yourself. You grab your bag and exit your car, walking along the pathway to your door and enter it. You're immediately greeted with a joyous "Anon! You're home!" and met with a familiar embrace. You firmly wrap your arms around her and hold her tightly. You still aren't sure what's wrong but you know one thing; this is exactly what you needed.

And it's all worth it.