I’m feeling homesick and I don’t know why because I’m home.
Maybe it’s the anxiety that tomorrow morning I have to go to work and I really don’t want to.
I’m not feeling as depressed, I’m doing much better actually, but the desire to isolate is still very much present.
I force myself to go out and interact with the world, even though I’d much rather be holed up in my apartment or laying in my bed.
I’m longing for someone familiar.
That warm, safe feeling when you have someone who knows you inside and out.
That person who feels like a barrier from the cold, harsh wind.
That person who feels like home.
I had that once, it was beautiful while it lasted.
Sometimes I wish I still had it but I know that relationship ran its course.
There’s no going back even if I could.
I thought I might have had it with another.
He started to feel like home and when he vanished, I felt displaced for a bit.
I miss having someone who knows me, knows my history.
Knows things about me that only they would know because that’s the relationship we have.
I miss that intimacy.
I want to be held, not in a sexual way, but in an embrace that says, “I’m here with you, no matter what.”
God I miss that.
I wonder how long it will be until I find that again.
Or if I ever will.
I try not to think like that, the pessimism just makes me feel hopeless and the hopelessness makes me feel lonely and the loneliness makes me want to isolate.
It’s a vicious cycle.
Hope is everything.
It’s what keeps me waking up and putting on clothes and joining the world, day after day.
Without it, I would wither away.
So I have to hope that I will not always feel this way.
That I will find a person who feels like that again.
And that this experience is not in vain.
That there’s a purpose in it.
I need to believe that.
Someday I will read these words and they will feel unfamiliar to me because it will be so far from where I am.
Today is not that day.