and nothing can tarnish this

          That was wonderful in ways I can't describe.
          A group of us went to Mitch's house tonight for chili, movies, and board games. I can't tell you how soothing it was to be in a home. To be somewhere that wasn't a dorm room or an academic hall. We sprawled on couches and on the carpet and wrapped ourselves in blankets. We watched Mulan and Space Jam without shame or reservation. We played board games by lamplight. We made s'mores in the fireplace. (The fireplace!) We played with Mitch's cats. His mom made these delicious chocolate mousse bites that were rolled in crushed graham crackers. We played ridiculous games; double oh seven, ropeless tug of war, that game where you hit each others' hands trying to knock the other off balance. There were pillow fights and impromptu tussling matches. We played Mafia, and Mad Gab.
          But, oh, sitting next to that fireplace. Being under the soft, warm glow of the un-fluorescent lights. Eating homemade food with a circle of friends. That unhurried contentment and safety, that feeling of home. Oh, God, I felt such a profound sense of relief. It felt, for me, like sitting next to Lake Michigan - some deep part of me unwound, relaxed, breathed in, breathed out. I let go of the tension I didn't know I was holding. I was comforted when I didn't know I needed comforting. For the first time in months, I felt ... like myself.
          I laughed so much tonight. I horsed around without worrying about what anyone thought. We all did. My voice is tired and fuzzy from laughing and singing along to good songs (Fat Bottomed Girls, Cecilia, Let It Be, and I Can See For Miles is a small sampling).
          It was the first evening in a long time, I think, when all of us were happy.
          It's reminded me how much I do miss about home. It's reminded me how much I want to start building that - how much I want to make a space that's warm, and small, and comforting. I want to have friends over for dinner. I want carpet and soft couches where people can sprawl in drowsy contentment. I want that place to build memories.
          Maybe I'm idealizing this night. But it was what I needed, here and now. It was beautiful. It was perfect.