It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t coma back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain. Damn, there’s nothing like that, is there? I’ve been there and you have too. You’re nodding your head.
❝
The only things that make me happy are thoughts of being back home. Back to where I feel loved unconditionally. I am never as happy as when I’m there. It doesn’t bother me that I may have to wait two years to go back because the memories alone are enough to keep me going until then. There’s just something about being around people you love. Of course I love my family and friends here in the states but… I don’t know. I just really miss it and wish I were going back again this summer.
