Do not tempt me with the idea of home. Because if it were ever an option, I'd get on that plane heading home and I would not have the will or strength to come back. Because its that heartbreaking. I want to go home, I'm homesick, I don't enjoy living here. I hate being lonely, I hate having to watch my back in every decision I make, I hate it. "How are you doing?", he asks. Well, there you go. I can't do this. I'd choose hot and humid anyday. So please please please don't tempt me with the idea of home. Are you striving or surviving? I'm surviving, only barely. Having the idea of home as an option is painful because I would want that more than anything.
Thank you for not being there when you said you would, thank you for backing up on your word and leave me here facing change alone. Because I can't do any of it anymore. I can't keep having the idea of home that I'm not ready to let go of. And I can't stand being alone anymore.
My heart has never been unpacked ever since I set foot here. If you take me home, I'm unpacking and I'm never having my life packed up in luggages anymore.
I can't do this.
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