Home. That wonderful place I was lucky enough to revisit no matter how short a time finally realizing it's not relegated to just one single place its wherever you make it.

But the moment our eyes meet, I'm right back under his spell, a helpless hunk of steel to his irresistible magnet.

Your heart always knows what's important. It always knows how to guide you. It's pure, and trustworthy--though it will never shout to be heard. it will never speak above a whisper. But if you learn how to heed it, how to hear it, you will never feel lost in the world.

Does it really matter if I choose the bus over a BMW, and generic over Gucci? Because the car, the wardrobe, the zip code-those are just nouns, things that are fun to have around, sure, but in the end, they have nothing to do with the real me. Nothing to do with who I really am.

Home. That wonderful place I was lucky enough to revisit no matter how short a time finally realizing it's not relegated to just one single place its wherever you make it.

You never know what you have till you've lost it.

The heart knows no logic, and rarely corresponds with the brain.