Home

I miss home. The feeling is like a tidal wave of pain, sorrow and longing. I miss the feeling I used to have walking in the door, like a wave of calm that filled me with a sense of peace, comfort and relief. Then, it felt like I could breathe. Now, my breath comes in short, sharp bursts. 

It could be worse. I could be without a house at all. But I'm not. What I am without is a home. It might seem like the same thing. Right? I used to think so too. But what I've come to learn is that it's not. What I've come to learn is that there's a difference, a very important difference, between having a house and having a home. A house is a physical structure; it's walls around you, floor beneath you and roof above you. A home, on the other hand, is an emotional experience. It's a feeling of calm, an atmosphere that's relaxed and an ability to just be. A house provides shelter. A home provides safety. 

So I miss home. Because now, home has been left behind in the rearview mirror. The only thing I want, more than anything, is to get back there, but the only thing that's actually happening is that I seem to be getting father away. 

I spied it once, a way away, off in the distance. At that point, I didn't even have a house. Going home was a dream just out of reach. The locks had been changed and I no longer have the right key. I turn away with a sigh. I have a house, and I'm grateful for that. I just wish I could have my home again. I will one day. Just not yet.  

Let Go

She peered out from her vantage point high up on the roof of a tall building. The city far below appeared like a miniature model constructed as a scaled down version of the real thing. Just the sight sent a wave of nausea coursing through her. Determinedly, she swallowed the burning sensation it brought with it back down her throat. 

As she stood there, hugging herself tight she felt rooted in place, as if there were chains keeping her bound. Chains that had been there so long, she'd long ago grown used to the feeling of the metallic chill against her skin. Chains she hadn't realised existed before. It made her want to slap herself. How had she not seen them before? How had she not noticed there was something there, keeping her from moving forward? From moving on? 

But now, she knew, and she wasn't sure she could stand the feeling anymore. She wanted... needed to let go. But how? Was there a key to open the lock? Could she shake it all away? Was there even a way, or would she be trapped there, set in stone, rooted to the ground, forever? 

She shook her head. No. She couldn't possibly be set like this. Not forever. There had to be some way to make it go away. To let go. Her brain rattled inside her skull along with the chains as she tried to move her arms. Her attempts grew more desperate. But still, the chains would not budge. 

Finally, she took a deep breath, opened her mouth and released a frustrated, ear piercing scream. A rush of air swirled around her, flowing through her hair, lifting it and blowing her long, blonde locks behind her. The feeling of sweet relief. As it wafted away, the wind carried with it the sound of her screams. They became softer and more distant until they finally dissipated completely. 

When she was left alone with a newfound quiet to accompany the forced stillness, she found she was suddenly able to stretch her arms out from her sides. Somehow, she was suddenly, finally, able to move. She peered out at the view in front of her. She breathed deep for courage, spread her arms wide, bent her knees and took off. Finally, she'd let go. 

She had thought that she was all by herself, high up above the rest of the world on the rooftop. But, when you zoomed out even more, as it turned out, there were many people on high rooftops of their own. All of them rooted in place by a set of invisible, possible unknown chains. All of them struggling to find a way to shake it all away, let go and break free. All of them desperate for the same sweet release she felt now, flying freely amongst the clouds in the bright blue sky. And all of them, though not a single one of them aware of it, not alone.       

Stuck

I didn’t realise anyone could be so stupid. It didn’t seem possible. But then I met you, and you proved me wrong. You are that stupid and it blows my mind.

 

If you only opened your eyes, you might see. If you only tried, you might understand. But I get it now; you don’t want to. You’d rather dance around it and press your hands against your ears to drown me out. It’s not a thing. It doesn’t exist. Except it is, and it does. Your persistent insistence on being blind is driving me insane.

 

How lucky for you to have that luxury. How fortunate that you have the luxury of pretending it doesn’t exist. Of denying it. I wish I could say the same. I wish I could turn it off like a light switch. But I can’t. I’m stuck with it, and I’m sorry to say that for now, you’re stuck with me. I’m sorry. But I’m even sorrier that I have the unfortunate displeasure of being stuck with you.

 

How I’m managing not to scream and slap you senseless is anybody’s guess. I manage it because I have to, I suppose. Because I don’t have a choice. Believe you me, if I had it my way, your head would’ve split from my shrieking. Your body would have turned black and blue, bruised right down to the bone. Aren’t you fortunate that I am able to show restraint?

 

I’m not so sure you know how. If you did, you’d stop digging it all back up just to try and excuse your own idiocy when there is no justification for it at all.  If you knew, you’d realise the ludicrousness of your words.

 

But you’re a moron with not even the first clue. You have no idea how torturous you’ve made it for me. I thought I loved what I do. But thanks to you, I’m questioning everything I worked so hard for. You have no idea of the pain you’ve put me through. As if being stuck with it wasn’t enough, you have to rub it in with your persistent delusions that it has no effect on me whatsoever. Maybe it wouldn’t be this bad if you’d stop insisting on playing pretend.

 

Don’t you realise you’re actually making it worse? It’s not that hard to deal with, you know. I’m not asking for the world. But to you, I guess I am. I’m sorry you find it so unreasonable that I need different things, that I have to find other ways to deal. I’m sorry you find it inconvenient. But I’m even sorrier for what you’re too deluded to realise you’re missing out on. I’m sorry that you won’t benefit from the things I could show you.

 

But I’m not sorry that you’re missing out on all of it. You’ve only got yourself to blame for that one. You don’t deserve it anyway. I’m not going to waste my time on someone who thinks I’m not worth theirs. I’m not going to bother caring about someone who couldn’t possibly care any less about me. Believe me when I say that I am running as fast as I can, racing toward the part when I get to leave you behind in the rear-view mirror. I can’t wait for the part where I can finally be free, get away and leave you in my dust. Cause I promise you that then, I’ll never think of you again.

Only Me

 Left all alone with only me, myself and I for company. No one else to listen. No one else to care.  No one else who's interested. No one else who wants to know. Only me. 

One arm that works. Half a body that will cooperate. Some invisible aura that must scream I'm contagious! Stay away! Only me. 

Ostracism, exclusion, isolation and loneliness. Rejection and hurt. Self hatred and self blame  Monsters that exacerbate it all. Only me. 

Surely, it's all only me. It must be. I'm the problem. I have to be. No one else is left alone. No one else has a body that doesn't work quite right. No one else is always avoided. Only me. 

Only me. So what am I doing wrong? So many questions left unanswered. So many things still unknown. So much still remains in shadow. I'm not sure if any of it will ever see the light. The struggle wasn't made any easier. If only I'd known then what I know now. If only. 

If only I knew back then what my life would become. How much better it would be if I could just hold on and keep waiting a little longer. Good things come to those who wait, my grandmother always said. If only I'd known how right she'd turn out to be. If only. 

If only I'd had a glimpse of what was to come. The things yet to be. The people I was yet to find if only I could keep swimming, just like Dory always said. After the storm comes the rainbow, so they say. If only I'd known the storm would come to an end. If only. 

If only I could tell myself that proof was on it's way. The monsters were wrong, our peers young and afraid. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, so the story goes. If only I'd known that song could be my anthem If only I'd known how much better it is here on the other side. If only. 

If only I could travel in time and bring the younger me to see her future. The future where the darkness was lesser then the light. Where the sun shines so brightly, it could easily send you blind. If only the past could glimpse the future where the light is visible at the end of a tunnel that doesn't exist. If only. 

If only that hurting, scared and lonely little girl could see that one day, it'd all be different. One day, life would be sweet. All she'd ever wanted and wished for would come. All she'd dreamed of, she'd have. All she'd ever hoped for would be hers.  She wouldn't believe it. She wouldn't listen to anyone else. Only me.   

On Hold

“Hey Freema.” She smiled when her friend’s face appeared on her screen. She couldn't help it. Seeing her friend always made her feel great, but today more than usual. “It’s good to see you again. Like actually see you. Because I don’t think I have. Not since…”
“I’ve lost track of how long…” Freema said.
“January. It was January.”
“Wow. That was months ago.” Freema shook her head. “Jaicey, I can’t believe your memory.”
Jaicey shrugged.
“It’s good to see you, too.” Freema grinned back. “How are you going?”
“Yeah... I’m alright. I miss you, though.”
“Miss me? Jaice, we talk all the time. We’re talking right now.”
“I know. It’s just... it’s not the same. Actually seeing you and being with you is a whole other thing. This... This is good. Don’t take this as me not being grateful, because I am. This is a thousand times better than nothing. But it’s… it’s just not the same, Freema.”
“We’ll hang out again soon.”
“I know. But who knows when that’ll be?”
“Waiting will just makes it sweeter when it finally does come.”
“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.” Jaicey sighed. “I’m just... I’m sick of not being able to be with anyone other than my Mum. I’m sick of everything being on hold.”

Freema’s face softened. “I kind of like it though. I mean, my house is a little quiet for once.”
Jaicey couldn’t help but laugh. She hadn't actually been to Freema's, yet, but she'd heard a lot of stories about how Freema's huge extended family would show up unannounced all the time. It's like a constant party, Freema had told her once. And it gets really tiring.
“No one can come over. It’s just my immediate family here and that’s it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still noisy. But not anywhere near as much as it usually is.”
“I guess it would be nice to have a break from the normal craziness of things.” Jaicey took a breath. “But I don’t know, Free. I feel like too much of any good thing can stop feeling good when you have too much of it. I.. I feel like I’ve had a good break, and now I want to get back into it. Except I can't.”
“Get back into what? School hasn’t stopped.”
"Yeah, but are we actually going to get to graduate?"
Freema's shoulders slumped in defeat. "We'll still finish," she said. "We might not get the ceremony, but we'll still finish."
"I suppose." Jaicey sighed. "I don't know... It's just... We've worked toward this for so long. It'd be nice to celebrate it being all over."
"We still can," Freema said. "We might just have to wait a while."
"Which will make it better and sweeter." Jaicey finished.
Freema nodded. "Yeah. We've just got to wait it out a bit."

"I know." Jaicey said, feeling something like a small child. "We're all waiting. But I'm sick of waiting."
"Everyone is waiting, Jaicey." Freema pointed out. "What is it that you're tired of waiting for?"
"Life,” Jaicey said. “It feels like this thing has stolen away all the good in it. Like, I can still go get needles for vaccinations and stuff-"
"That's necessary," Freema interjected.
Jaicey's gaze fell while she nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah, I know," she whispered.  "But it doesn't feel like I’m allowed to do anything good. Like going to the movies, or the theatre. Like seeing you.” She sighed. "That's what I miss. More than anything. Because those are the things that help me feel better when I don't feel good at all. Like now."
“Jaice, I promise you. You’re going to be longing for this time when life starts up again. For the slowness and the chill. Trust me.”
Jaicey shrugged, not entirely convinced. “Maybe.”
“This will end, Jaicey. I promise you it will.” Freema’s eyes searched her friend’s, perhaps for a hint of agreement. “For now, just try and make the most of it.”
"I'm trying," Jaicey said, voice heavy. "I just.. I feel like I'm losing time."
Freema nodded, and Jaicey felt her breath catch in her throat. Was her friend finally starting to understand?
"We're all losing time, Jaicey." Freema's voice was soft. "If you want to put it that way. We can't help the fact that the whole world is kind of on hold right now. We can't help that we have no control over the fact that the big giant pause button has been hit on life. What we can do is use the time to our advantage. We can use this time to do the things we've always wanted, to chase after the dreams we've always wished would come true."
Jaicey released a breath when her eyes rose to meet her friend's gaze.
"You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think that we only lose time if we waste it on things that don't matter." Freema said, spirited. "So take this time to figure out what does matter so you don't lose time on things that don't."
"You matter." Jaicey spoke up in a small voice.
"So do you, my friend." Freema's smile widened slightly. "But I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere, Jaicey. We've still got each other. We're in this together."
Jaicey nodded.
"So, focus on that," Freema said. "Focus on what you do have rather than lamenting everything you don't."
"I'll try," Jaicey said solemnly. "I promise I'll try."