Comfort is curling up in your favourite spot on the sofa with a warm drink when it’s rainy and cold outside. Comfort is the familiar embrace of your own bed after a long day. Comfort is getting lost in your favourite book, the one with the dog-eared pages and the well-worn spine. Or getting lost in your favourite film, that one you know all the words to, and despite the fact that you’ve watched it so many times you’ve lost count the ending still makes you cry. It’s getting lost in your favourite piece of music, one that transports you to a different time, a different place. It’s the smell of home on a warm summers day. It’s a warm hug from a well-loved pair of arms.
Comfort is familiar. Comfort is safe.
Comfort is boring.
A Place of Mine 