Homesick at Home
I’m at home and I’m homesick. I’m homesick for a place I only called home for mere days, I’m homesick for places I haven’t been to, I’m homesick for people I am yet to meet, and I’m homesick for the love and adventure I feel I’m so lacking in my life.
In these last few years I’ve done a lot of growing up. My eyes have been opened to so many things that I never got to experience in my shallow existence before; countries I never would have considered visiting, experiences I never dreamed were possible for me, activities that I once lived for that I never thought I’d grow out of…
I need to get away and find people I can relate to again, in places that have me captivated and leave me breathless.
I’m longing to just wander the streets of cities I’ve never been to but that feel oh so familiar. I’m longing to sit outside on a warm midsummer evening having meaningful conversations with strangers which probably won’t seem so meaningful in years to come. I want to lie on the ground gazing up at the stars to be reminded of just how small and insignificant we are in comparison. I want to stroll along the seafront listening to the ocean’s waves crash on the shore over and over again. I want to wander through ancient ruins in ancient cities to get a taste of history. I want to feel the breeze on my face. I want to feel exhilarated. I want to feel young and care free. I want to feel alive.
Right here, right now, I feel unwilling to call this place my home and I feel restless in it. I feel trapped and I’m counting down the days until I can be free again.
Has anyone else ever felt this way?