#69

I heard a song that made my heart ache. It was the melody, the words, the longing in the singer's voice. I don't know how to say this without being too rude, but there is nothing I miss back home. Not a single thing, not even my books, but my heart longs (in the same way the singer longs) for some people who I left behind. If I could take them all here, now, I'll do it without thinking twice.

Home is the people I love. It's not a place, not merely a feeling, not a thing. I long for that day when I share a real conversation with my family, an excellent dessert with Zha and breakfast with Lex. Until that day comes, this heart will ache during the most random moments. And when it aches, I'll remember the song and the singer who longs.




Please, remember me
Happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin
The time when
We counted every black car passing
Your house beneath the hill
And up until
Someone caught us in the kitchen
With maps, a mountain range,
A piggy bank
A vision too removed to mention