I don’t know if I’m okay.
I don’t know how I feel. If I’ve been feeling anything lately.
The last time I was truly happy was when I was travelling solo. The time before that was when I was in his arms, intoxicated. The time before that, I was home.
But the days and weeks and months between those fleeting moments, that’s when I felt it. Numbness. In a strange intensity.
I cry often. I’m convinced I can cry on command (and hey, that’s impressive). I laugh more, I laugh at everything – not always on command. I switch from being at my highest to my lowest in seconds.
Homesickness, I feel it so often that it has made a home inside of me.
Every time I’m feeling down, I look up to the sky in hopes that it’ll rain. Rain never fails to make me feel something. It makes me feel alive.
And then it stops, leaving behind a grey sky.