Sometimes, where you are is so incredibly far away from where you want to be.

Where I am right now is where I should be, but for the first time since I don’t know when I feel an overwhelming sense of homesickness.

Being homesick was a sensation I felt and experienced with great depth when I was sent to boarding school at the age of 10. Since then feeling homesick has become foreign to me in a odd way. Like it’s a piece of abstract art I once adored but can no longer understand.

As I sit here and wonder about where it is I am yearning for, no place comes to mind. How could it when no place is really home? I belong to the world and yet I don’t belong anywhere.

At best, home is people. A few people who are my anchors. People who are my world regardless of where they are. And yet and yet and yet, I ache for a home that doesn’t exist.

I ache for something I can’t ever have.


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