it's like a hug

While the holiday season ended up being easier and less stressful than I anticipated, it was lonely still. It's a hard concept for me to wrap my mind around, this, this homesickness, when I've spent the last 12 years running as far away as humanly possible. I had to see the world and not get stuck there. Until Julia came along, I only went home when I had to. And now, because I physically can't be anywhere near them, I long to be there.

It did not help that I've only met one person who has become a friend here (Hi! Monika).

It does not help that my life is in transition, always coming and going, back and forth. This is life as an international family: time here, time there, but when is it time for us? (Not that I would change it, it's just harder)

So, I've avoided this place for awhile now because I'm not sure who I should be here. Which mask should I don as I've felt so incredibly raw and vulnerable and unable to commit to virtual paper, my innermost fears. I called it "vacation" but really I was just afraid to tell you all what's going on inside here: I'm blue. That winter and darkness are conspiring against me. That I rarely leave my apartment. That I'm afraid I'm not a good mother. But then I read your pages and realize that I am just me, so similar to the me we all inhabit. Similar fears stain our hands, similar joys wash them clean.

During this journey (although it feels more like standing still than moving) I've made some amazing connections through this platform; I never imagined how supportive and friendly you would be. Or how excited I could get to be given the privilege of sharing in your lives. When I'm blue and can't find the words to describe my pain, I hang out with you guys, reading through your archives, remembering I'm not alone.