I’m sitting on the train at the train station, looking out at the platform and the people. The trains headed for the airport but my minds still back at my previous destination. My previous place, my previous address, my previous life. Memories replay in my mind, and I can’t shake it. We all move on by living out lives but I somehow feel like mines going to stand still.
I’m going home and as much as I welcome the thought I cant help but fell a slight feeling of dread. I love home and I need home, but its not always the place where I feel most settled. It used to but it hasn’t in a while. The people and the places I have come to love and feel the most familiar and safe with now feel the most farthest away every time I come home. The sense of security I used to have doesn’t feel as secure anymore. And my sense of direction and knowing who I am feels more lost than ever.
I always say I need to go home to get my head right but sometimes when I go home its not always the case.
I love home, I really do. But sometimes I feel more at home when I’m away, because I can be myself, when I’m home I feel like I loose myself making me question if I ever really knew who I was.
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