Come On Home

Ragged and torn.

Lines from a song that I've been listening to quite a bit lately.

That's how I feel, if I want to be honest with myself. I'm so lonesome sometimes. I feel completely isolated by my own design. How do I get home? How?

I know home is out there, but where? I feel increasingly not at home here, increasingly trapped. I'm not ready to make the giant jump yet, but I want some solace from something or someone. I know that is not logical. I need to free myself first.

I need some love, I do. I walk on eggshells all the time trying to keep my feelings to myself, and I can feel those very shells crunching under my feet. I don't know why I am unable to just smash it all right now and run for my life.

I have all the comforts of home, except a place to lay my head at night, and a soul to spill myself on. I have all the comforts of home except that I don't feel like this is my home.

I like it here, I don't love it.

I feel as if I'm on a very long visit.

This is not my home.

It's not salty here, not spicy enough.

This is where comfort food is cooked, not spicy ethnic fare.

This land of milk toast, is not supplying me with what I need. It would be so very easy for me, or at least much easier for me, if I didn't have my kids.

I could just leave. I don't feel like I can do that though.

I won't live without my kids, and deep down inside, I do feel like this is the best place for them, just not the best place for me.

Today, I want to run away from home, into the arms of an amazing love.

Peace,

OC