Blue like home.

There's a blue mug amongst the many I have collected over the years. And it's not fancy. None of my mugs are. But there's something about the kind of blue that it is. It makes me want to pick it always. It came with a crack along it's handle that went unnoticed till I picked it up to drink my first cup of tea. 

The first time I noticed, I smiled. Not because it was money wasted. But something about that crack reminded me of the people I love. Broken but not enough to fall apart. Now everytime I wash it I can't wash it too hard like I usually would. Scared to break it. And I smile a little every time I wash it too. It'll always make me think of how I've always been made to be more careful than I was made for. I have to wash it at an angle so I don't have it's handle in my other hand by the end of it. It's my life in a moment. Always wondering if I am too much. If there's something in me that makes people want to break. 

Like when Tara tells Ved that maybe she had touched something in him, and in doing that had triggered something disturbing within him. Or when Qais tells Laila, he won't come back to look for her but looks for her in everything esle there ever was after. Or when Aditya goes back to find Geet completely broken and tries to fix her knowing she wasn't his to love.

My entire existence is focused on making sure I can have one more coffee in it while I'm washing it. Because it isn't the only mug I have but it's the kind of blue that makes me feel warm. Like I've come home to a long hug. The kind that lingers. Makes you want to cry from relief. Like I've finally met love for what it's meant to be. Soft. And the longer I see that mug on my shelf, the longer it makes me hopeful that there's home somewhere, in someone.

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