You. Belong. Here.

Something about a particular place can cause a feeling in your chest. The rhythm of your heart strays from its ordinary pattern for just a moment, to beat the words “You. Belong. Here.”

What does it mean, to belong somewhere?

Wholeheartedly, without a doubt. Almost as though you are that final piece of the puzzle, clicking into place - a place that was once an aching hole, waiting.

Now all is bright and full and light because You. Belong. Here.

It’s a grounding. The belonging. It isn’t just a beat of a heart or a thought in a head. It is connected to the very earth itself, the ground beneath your feet.

You can feel it, an invisible string between your core and the earth’s core. One that is always there but at this moment, in this place, it seems to be tugging a little harder than usual.

Can you belong in more place than one?

You’re not sure you could do it. You don’t want to go back to that place. The place in between, the Untethered.

There, your invisible string was hanging limply at your feet, its edges were fraying from where they had been yanked out of the earth.

But that was a while ago. Since then, you have woven a web, a secure net around the place you now call home.

But you can already see it go dark around the edges, fading. You’re already forgetting the details. What does the earth look like there? What sound does it make underfoot?

A man-made web is weak compared to natural rope.

So, although you worked so hard to tether yourself to that place, you can feel your grip loosening as you stand in this third location.

Here is too much like home, it hurts.

Your feet are being weighed down here, you can’t hear the crunch underfoot.

You don’t have to, because you know it. Wholeheartedly, without a doubt. The sound makes up your very bones.

Your heart: You. Belong. Here.

Suddenly, there’s a shatter. Keep breathing. Take your time to regain consciousness, to open your eyes again.

Now everything is bright and full and light, filling a hole.

A hole in the landscape, waiting for your silhouette to fit.

But also a hole in you, the old one, the hole that aches in certain places.

The one where that first ever string was attached.

The string unfurls, creating a connection not easily undone.

You. Belong. Here.