There’s a hearth (sort of) but no home

It could be the solidly springtime weather.

The fine day for a drive and daytrip on roads less crowded than usual, thank you Easter

Could be the stroll around the old Western mining town.

Or surprising discovery of a tiny new art gallery that sells coffee.

Or it could be the two pints of excellent craft beer savored at the out-of-town brewery — unusually quiet, again thank you Easter.

Or it could even be that the evening’s hourlong windy drive home through the mountain was free of incident — notably collisions with deer.

That happened once in Colorado. Deer, obscured by dark dusk, sprang out of nowhere. Put my car in the shop for 5 weeks **while I was on a road trip a thousand miles from my residence!**

Short of that tale is: Those creatures are terrible unpredictable dangerous menaces. When I see deer, I see dinner.

Or it could be the opportunity to leisurely hang out at a cool brewery with two beers and create in my art therapy journal.

Any of these — and no doubt more if I stopped to think about it — easily qualify for today’s perfect moment.

Yet I didn’t choose them.

Instead, I choose a comparatively mundane moment:
The warmth on the left side of my neck — heat emitted from a gas fire in a cafe’s small fireplace built into a large brick wall.

I choose this because I haven’t a home (except for my Subaru).

Yes, I sleep in a small bedroom that I rent in someone else’s home. I bathe there, very rarely eat there, sometimes brew my morning coffee there.  I clean the entire rather large house for no reduction in rent.

And I have one roommate, a dude whom I predict I’ll like better when we’re no longer roommates.

Due to issues, I avoid home except to sleep. That’s A LOTTA hours spent every day in avoidance, in escapism, in despair, in continuous wishes to live alone. (Which requires foremost a good job and far better income than the 10-hours-a-week pizza job delivers.)

In short:

Home is not nourishing.
Is not warm.
Is not comforting.
Is not happy.
Is not even especially safe.

The touch of warmth on my neck from a fireplace is magnificent. It is warmth I do not have in my life or home.

It is comfort that I yearn for, desire, need. A brush of heat can mean so much to a girl starved for kindness, caring, respect and goodness in a home.

For all things wonderful today, it is “unremarkable” cafe low fire that provides today’s perfect moment, a hearth (sort of) but no hone.

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