I have itchy feet again. This sense of not being where I am supposed to be did not come out of the blue, but yet I have stayed put for far longer than I had originally intended for many reasons, a lot of which have been things that are completely out of my control. It’s been over a decade already, and the longest time since I left home as a teenager when I have actually stayed in one place for this length of time. With maybe a little tongue in cheek, and in keeping a long story short, I guess the easiest way to explain why is to cite ‘A series of unfortunate events’ and leave it at that, for now.
My immediate family are nearby, but my closest friends are all gone now, moved on to different places for their own reasons, and I am regretting not doing the same while I still had the chance.
I talked with a good friend very recently about a time and a place where I was once happy, actually happy, and it triggered the train of thought I am on now. To be honest, there are a lot of things on my mind lately, so many that I’ve been at a loss to even begin ordering them, but the one that seems most predominant is this.
I am not home.
Home was back in the city, surrounded by friends,good food, music and the smell of the sea air. Where I wanted to get out of bed in the mornings and step outside with nothing else on my mind other than simply enjoying the day. Enjoying life.
It’s not like that for me here, not for at least the last five or six years. I am not living here, just simply existing. It also makes me wonder when I start to feel nostalgic for that place where I was most comfortable. Am I just chasing ghosts? There are days, and those days seem to be more often than not, lately, when I just want to close the door on my current life, walk away and start again. I’m not sure whether that is a good thing, or not. What I do know is, for personal reasons, doing that would be both impractical and selfish. I have far too many responsibilities tying me to my current situation, and by default, location.
But Gods, do I want to. I want to just run away and find myself again. I want to just run and not stop until I find where I am supposed to be.
Whether home is in the circle of someone’s arms or an actual place, or both, I am simply just not there yet.
I am not home.
These Things 