Midway Town

A town I used to call home.
Somehow feels so foreign now.
And my parents’ house…
It just feels tired now.
No longer cozy.
And it’s as if everything’s familiar…
But there’s no feeling of nostalgia.
A tiny piece inside me feels betrayal.
Even more so, now I want to say…
It’s not home.
It’s not my home.
Even if I used to love it so much as a kid.
Now I just feel like a guest.
A guest who’s been there many times before.
And this was just another visit.
That child from long ago wonders…
How can I do this?
Leave nothing?
Not a single piece of my heart?
Forever.
How can I feel like this?
How can it be?
But not to me.
Not to who I am today.
I just want to…
Gently.
With love.
To let it go.
All of it.

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Christmas Tree

I wrote this a while back… Maybe two years ago? Feeling nostalgic, a little bit homesick, longing for the good things I’ve left behind and dreaming of the other good things I’ve been wanting in my life.

It was bittersweet.

…

Beautiful ornaments swaying on the branches. Twinkling lights and shiny baubles. Snowflakes, stars, bells, garlands, deer and candy canes. Green, red and gold.

It’s as if I will turn to my right to look out the window and I will see snow. I wish…

For the first time in five years, I have decided to buy a proper Christmas tree and decorate it.

Looking at it feels like home.

I actually miss winter, even though the last time I experienced it wasn’t all that enjoyable. I also miss the woods, the lakes, the winding roads and the peacefulness of my small town.

It’s been five years. Never once have I missed home. I left a lot of pain back there. I found solace in a foreign place, a place so vibrant and warm. No snowflake ever touches its streets.

Summer has always been my favorite season. But each season has its own beauty. I’ve learned to appreciate them all. However, it’s been difficult to get into the Christmas spirit with no snow outside. Perhaps it’s the magic behind those holidays that I miss.

The Christmas tree feels like a band aid. A pill. Just a temporary fix to what seems to be looming inside.

I enjoy my Christmas tree nevertheless.

Do I actually miss home? Do I want to go home? Should I go home? Can I go home?

Things are complicated.

I think a lot. Always deep in thought. A blessing and a curse.

No. It’s not home that I miss. Not the one I left behind.

I want my very own home. I want peace. I want freedom.

I want to walk the wilderness again…

…

Since then… I’m home again, you could say. In my homeland for sure.

My very own home is work in progress, but it’s already a fact of my future.

I’ve walked the wilderness again, and not only.

Some things are still complicated, but I’m stronger than ever.

I don’t have a Christmas tree of my own this year, but that doesn’t matter…

I have so much more.

P.S. There will be a Christmas tree next year, in my very own home.