I Want To Go Home

I want to go home.

That line is the only lyric of Showbread's "The Flies" on 'Nervosa.'

And that is how I feel. I just want to go home. I'm not even entirely sure where that is. My immediate though is Heather. She had become home for me. And everything else of where I was and what I was doing was fluid, was subject to change; but she was sure, and she was steady. By God's grace. I still want that to be the answer.

When I say that I want to go home right now, I am certainly thinking of her. I am thinking of how I have been bursting into tears all night because tomorrow is her birthday. Because I can't quit thinking about how she looks in pictures that I haven't looked at in weeks. Because I just want to hear her sweet soft voice say, "I love you" again. Because . . . for every reason I can think of.

I had such grand plans for her birthday. I was going to buy her Elizabethtown, one of her favorite movies, on Blu-Ray. And score tickets to the Avett Brothers. And go see some theatre show she wanted to go see. But now . . .

I just want to be with her. To tell her happy birthday. To make that day so special for her. Her best birthday ever, because she's never had a boyfriend before. And this . . . I wanted to be with her for her birthday.

But I feel so much worse than that. I feel . . . deflated. And I have for a while I've decided. I'm not sure how long but I have. I feel . . . if people are gloves, and God is what fills us and gives us purpose, I feel like He's there, but there is still room left. And I think its her.

So when I say I want to go home, I mean I want to be with Heather, for her birthday. But I'd take anything right now. I'd take having a home. I'd take heaven.

I just want to cry. I just want to go lie down and cry. And the only reason I don't is because I have no one to cry with. Which makes me want to cry more.

This is not right.

The day started well. I don't think I'm going to talk to Michael ever again. Every time I do I just feel worse than I did going in. I was ready for today to be a good day. But then I get beset by bitterness and anger and now this overwhelming sadness and longing.

I have thoughts I'd like to share, things I've been ruminating on from last night, and today . . . but I just don't feel like writing anything.

I just want to see my Heather. And tell her happy birthday.

I just want to go home.