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kiyuso
☕ Partially active. Just blogging down my messy thoughts for the record and future references. Also a story writer, typically concerning my gays. I don't particularly have any interests. It's more like, if something piques my interests, I become infatuated or obsessed.
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Feeling at "home" was never a feeling I could quite understand. We moved a lot when I was younger, and so I learned to disconnect myself from the "homes" we lived in for barely a year. It felt like a void that needed to be filled but couldn't be filled when I was older. So I sought to find a place that could fill that emptiness. I left my family, the closest thing I had to a home, to a town miles away. I had hopes that if I ran away far enough, but not too far, I could find what I was looking for. Even I myself don't know what I was looking for back then. Just something to fill the void inside that I seemed to be missing.
It was hard trying to feel at ease in a new place with hostilities every corner. Some of the people I met were rude, unfriendly, and immature. It felt like a place I wouldn't be able to connect with. But like everything, time and patience is fortitude. It wasn't until halfway through I connected with someone, and it wove like a web from there.
I started to understand that maybe "home" doesn't have to be a place, but with the right people. It was the right people that made the home, a home. Maybe for some people it might be the other way around, but I was certainly looking for the wrong things.
Even my hometown never left such a lasting effect on me. I felt like I could never leave this new home I finally made with my own two hands. Although there were certainly many bad memories that almost ruined what I had, it was never enough to chase me off. I held my ground and made the best of the worst.
However, one summer and the next January was enough to send it all crumbling.
When you invite someone into your life, to share your world and your hopes, it's with trust that nothing can be broken. Sometimes it all breaks without you realizing though. It took just days for someone I thought I could share my home with to ruin all that.
I let them into my personal space that I felt the safest in, and was kicked out of that very physical home. I let them into the sphere of friends I had, and almost all of them turned their backs on me. I let them into my deepest darkest thoughts, and was disgraced because of it. I let them into my heart, and trampled to the ground it was without any regards.
Now, I live once again hollow and empty, trying to find another home I can feel at ease in. All the friends that used to make my home the proper home it was are no longer around or have uneasy feelings about me, just as I them. Even leaving the entire states seems more appealing than starting anew some other place within.
What pains me the most is that I still look forward to returning to the place I had called home for six years. In me there is still this hope that it could still be what it used to be, what I had imagined it to be in the future. And isn't that the most painful?
I had dreams and hopes that I'd live in a quaint little house there with green shrubberies and painted red doors so my friends and visitors wouldn't get lost looking for me. I'd have a dog or two, maybe even a cat, and we'd all be a happy family if I didn't have significant other. My siblings could come see me or even live with me if they didn't have a solid foundation themselves. Weekends would be spent outside enjoying the trails and mountains and wildlife, and weekdays I would turn in with my hobbies. And if I occasionally had some company in the form of best friends and other furry fluffy companions, I wouldn't complain.
Every time I step into that town though, the anxiety and turmoil turning inside are too great to even stomach thoughts of remaining in that place for more than a day. The looks thrown my way by some of my old friends send me scurrying away faster than a rabbit to their burrow. And I hate that I give those people the power over my dreams and hopes. But what can I do?
I simply wish for a place to lay my weary heart and mind to rest now, even if it's not the home I've been craving all these years. I'm done carving a place out for me, only to be carved back out. My soul is weary and I just want some peace and simplicity.
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