Far From Home

For the past month I have stayed at home- everyday. But this doesn’t feel like home.

Home isn’t a house with a locked door. Home is a place that allows me to be free. A place where I can let the world drift away, and just focus on that moment. A moment where breathing becomes easy again, and life feels more like a privlage than a burden.

Home isn’t a quarreling family. Home has an atmosphere of love. Where I can live and laugh, and enjoy the company of otheres. Others who’s first instinct when they see me is an instant hug. Hugs filled with warmth that remind me to smile again.

Home isn’t sitting in the same position everyday staring at a computer screen.

Home isn’t going to bed at 7:00 and waking up at 10:00 because sleep is the only break from reality.

Home isn’t binge eating everything in the pantry because food is the only thing keeping you sane.

Home isn’t sitting in bed staring at the ceiling, because there’s nothing to do while procrastinating school.

No, that’s not home.

Home is going to Smiths during assemblies with a carload of friends.

Home is whispering in class, trying to have a conversation without getting caught.

Home is going shopping just because you want to.

Home is spending time with the people who make you cry one minute, then make you laugh the next.

I don’t know where I am right now, because this is not home. This is an island, and I’m stranded. Somebody please send a rescue ship. Because I’m lying in the sand, waves licking up my arms, calling for help.

But I guess you’re all on your own islands, each clutching one part of a boat, unable to piece it together with someone else’s.

We’re all waiting on the shore, looking into the distance, yearning to be home again.