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“So many memories of home.
Maybe you made it because you miss home. The homesickness has crept in deeper than you realize.
You’re aware of the little things you’re not doing with your family. All the foods you aren’t sharing with them as summer creeps along. It’s not like you won’t go home again; you just feel the separation. You feel like Samwise Gamgee leaving the Shire, thinking, ‘If I take one more step, I’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.’” – K.E.A

Homesickness

Fiction. Based on a true wistful thinking.

By Bry LeBerthon

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.

To you, homesickness means something entirely different. It means being sick of,
tired of,
disgusted with,
home.
The place that you’re supposed to long for, that place that symbolizes family, and safety, and closeness and close togetherness,
and its not that you hate your family,
so you obviously feel bad
its just that
the ghosts of memories
their mauled and mangled skeletons
they litter and flood your home
filling up and spilling out of the closets where they belong
creating pools that flow into streams that flow into rivers that flow into seas
and you are, in short, drowning in them
they fill up your throat and leak down into your lungs and into your chest
and you feel so dirty
and you long to be clean.
home
is piles and piles of cardboard boxes
its cans of trash that are beginning to stink
its seeing the molding creeping along the moulding but not being able to identify where its coming from
its ants crawling all over your walls and all over your furniture and all over your skin
and theres too many to kill
and they keep coming back
yet you know
darling
that its all going to be okay
youll be back in the city soon
its not clean and it isnt perfect
but it is yours
and you have control there
the towering buildings and the icy snow
they give you a voice
and you will use it to scream and cry and be different and difficult
and you will use it to be free.
my darling
you know you are your own person, right?
and the space you have and the space you control
it is all and entirely yours
and its so hard to explain why this matters to you but it does
and that city you love so much
being by your own side
that is home
so it is okay to love home
your family may be so far from perfect
so far from the people you claim to love
but you can embrace them too.
in the end its not their fault
their home does not have to be your home
you’re only visiting, my darling
and the visit will be over soon.
if you’re feeling lonely, love
think of the buildings that scrape the sky
think of pristinely manicured parks
and snowfall, pure white, that turns grey as it is looped into the hustle and bustle of the sidewalks
and the creaking and banging of your apartment’s furnace
and when you think
“home”
think not of that physical home
but think of laughing with your roommate as you take another hit
LED lights set to pink
their space all warm tones, golden and true
surrounding your blues greens and greys
think of
making them orange chicken while you make yourself pork dumplings
consoling them as they sob
trusting theyll console you
think of
laughing with your mother as she drives you in her car
holding your sister as she quietly falls asleep
watching the rain fall once in a blue moon in sunny southern california
think of you
because it will all be over soon
and you are already, and always, home.

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