I Miss Home...(For Those Who Live Away From Home)






I miss home, but I feel like I can’t go there, more like I don’t want to go there. It’s this mix of feelings and drama that I don’t want to go through, it’s that moment when I enter the house and I’m busy carrying my heavy suitcase, partly complaining about its heaviness and partly wishing things were easier, wishing I didn’t have to take transport instead wishing I had my car or I had someone else to drive me home. And then it’s that awkward moment when I’m in front of my mom and I can’t get myself to kiss her and say hi. I would just stare for a moment and as she stares back, I can imagine her wondering why isn’t she saying hi and kissing me and she can’t get herself to ask it, and I silently plead for her not to make me feel like a stranger, asking her helplessly to pretend that I haven’t been away, that I had only been out that morning to college here in town and I’m back for lunch. It’s hard enough on me, I don’t want to get to that point where, I have to greet my family, as I greet other people. But it wasn’t the welcome that I dreaded most about going back home, it’s mostly the good-bye, that moment when my dad has to drive me to the station and I’m once again that little girl who would complain to her parents, who would pretend she was angry at her parents when things isn’t what I wished. I stare at dad, seeing him trying to make sure I’m not mad at him, and I’m not, it’s just that I want to complain and blame it on someone, like I used to do being a little girl. But now I’m a grown up, I know better than to blame anyone but myself. And I hate that feeling, I feel then bad for all the times I made my parents go feeling guilty because I felt like I wanted to blame it on someone; and I wish that I didn’t exist, that I didn’t make them go through all that trouble. I wish I cease to exist to stop their troubles, but I know that if I ceased to exist, the pain would be much bigger, so I just wish to be away, so they won’t have to carry on my burden anymore than they had. I then lie and pretend I was fine, and I dread their calls, because I’m tired of holding on and I can’t trust myself anymore not to break in front of them.







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