I wish I could say that being at home is a dream come true. That I spend each day creating art and making music. That my heart is filled with joy and the only tears that fall from my eyes are because of happiness that is exploding out of me.
But in all reality, I’m sitting here surrounded by my own mess.
I haven’t had the energy to shower for days. I’m still wearing the same clothes as I was 3 days ago. My diet consists of whatever is near by and easy meaning junk food. My body hates me. Every morning I promise to go for a walk; get outside. But then I find myself collapsed on the couch watching the same show for hours upon end. My suitcases still full; stacked against my wall.
A Fort that keeps me locked in.
My mom comes home after work and I am in the same position as I was when she came home the day before.
Does it get easier?
Will my heart ever heal?
Have you ever longed to be anywhere else than where you are at that moment? It’s like I’m homesick for a place I’ve never been. A place where I am content and okay. Maybe I have been there. Small glimpses of this place. Like window shopping – you see what you want but it’s just out of your reach. I’ve seen what this place looks like, but I have yet to experience it in the way I desire.
So let me collapse onto the tattered couch with the blinds shut to the world. Let me rest as I gather strength. It is here I hide but also it is here I learn to keep going.
This mess is who I am.
But I keep chasing the sun.