This is what home feels like

Yesterday, here in Australia a very conservative, anti-gay rights, hostile to refugees group was voted into power. It’s going to be a tough few years for a lot of people. Instead of curling into a small ball of misery, or seceding from the country and going to live up the tree in my backyard, I had a group of friends over. We made awesome homemade pizzas and played cards. It was blissful. We made each other laugh. I remember that this is what home feels like, people around my dining table, everyone helping out with something, closing the door on a confusing and often hostile world. Letting go for an evening of the crushing sense of responsibility for the world. There’s pain and suffering out there, so much of it, and I’ve voted and done what I can, which is not enough, even slightly enough to make up for my very privileged world, but for an evening there is feasting, black humour, laying my head in my arms on the table to laugh myself weak. Being able to take it in, the glass walls down, dissociation low, I can feel it when they touch me, can feel the warmth in hugs, the light of our voices as we talk into the night. Rose comes off 24hrs of straight work to fall exhausted into my bed. My sister sleeps on my couch. Zoe sleeps in front of the bathroom. Tonks migrates through the house, a happy furball of purring joy, taking it in turns to sleep everywhere. Today I make smoothies for breakfast. Spring is here.

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