The thought of leaving makes me the absolute saddest.
The thought of leaving you, and this home makes me sad.
The truth is home is wherever you are, and I hate to leave it, even for a day.
Now I have to leave for weeks, and if God forbid, maybe even for a month or more.
It saddens me to think I won’t feel the serene comfort I feel every time I’m home.
Your clothes can serve as security blankets but only for a while, enough to mask the cold feeling, but while they serve that very purpose, they can heighten the sadness.
I have nothing to hold on to, nothing to clutch on fridays, and any other day. I can only look forward to a daily phone call, and that one weekend out of (hopefully) every month that I get that overwhelming joy of actually being able to hold my entire home, my entire world at the very palm of my hands.
I try to remind myself that the very reason I’m doing this, the very reason I’m leaving serves a purpose. I’m trying to understand that all of this will enable something for the better, that this is just a dot to connect to the rest of the dots that will form one big picture. A picture of the future.