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I am sitting here at my old dining room table but my mind is somewhere else. This table that once held so much meaning, about the past and about the future, now feels so hollow and dead. This house is no longer my home. Was it ever? It was lonely. Lonely house, lonely bed, lonely heart. How different things are now.

My heart is full. My bed no longer feels lonely. My house is very much a warm and cozy home. Something this house never was. 

Couple at a table holding hands

Lesbian couple at a table holding hands

As I wrote about here, I have recently found a soul connection with a good female friend. It is a spiritual thing, love. When you are truly connected, feel known and understood, it is not something of the surface. Not hollow. It goes into your heart and soul and seeps deep into your bones to the marrow, into the osteocytes and osteoclasts and osteoblasts. Into the matrix of your skeleton, changing your vibration and energy and that of those around you. It is contagious. It resonates through my house and my children. 

And so my mind is somewhere else as I sit at this table I once sat at, but which was never mine. A table where many words were spoken but few actually heard. We have a very different table now. One where all of us are heard. And none of us are alone.