“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”
I was not too sure how to begin this post. Earlier, I stepped into the shower with a heavy heart. It happens every now and then. It happens unexpectedly and is triggered by nothing in particular. A long 20 something minutes spent standing under water, and the feeling still wasn’t washed away. I decided to call my mom. As the phone rang, my chest grew heavy. The voicemail picked up and I articulated, very carefully, paying close attention not to sob a “Hi it’s me, I wanted to see if anyone was home.” Then a voice came on, it was my mom’s. She rushed to the telephone, and spoke, in a familiar Eastern European language, that I often forget I know. And I started sobbing. “I miss you”, I let out. I rarely ever tell my parents that I miss them or love them, although I constantly do, saying it out loud never came easy to me. Today however, I missed them too much to bottle it in. After an hour and a half long talk, I feel a bit better.
“And I called through the air that night,
A calm sea voiced with a lie
I could only smile,
I’ve been alone sometime,
and all in all, it’s been fine…”
Although self-induced in my case, homesickness is also one of the most overwhelming states to be in. In such state, I feel longing and nostalgia, both at once. I feel nostalgia for what has been, and even what could have been, and I feel longing to separate my consciousness in multiple entities and be in multiple locations, simultaneously. Then melancholy takes over when I realise that my greedy mind will never fully be satisfied. Homesickness comes with guilt about spending the precious time of being alive away from the people who matter the most to me. It follows with a sense of senselessness as soon as I think about my experience of being away. I have somehow managed to build a routine, just away from home. It comes with anger that I deviated from my original objective of being entirely carefree, and that I no longer even know what my objective is. Of course, frustration with my own self weaves its way in, and I get tired of myself for not seizing the opportunity, the moments, and for not being grateful for everything that I have achieved up until now, and of opportunities that I was lucky enough to be presented with. Then existential depression takes over, full force; there is no now, is this all there was to it?
I did my best, it wasn’t much,
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch(…)
No, I never thought it would be easy, and it’s been easier than I intended it to be. No, I didn’t think I was not going to miss my family and friends, I just thought that I would not have the time to realise that I miss them. As a matter of fact, I have all the time in the world. I do meet people, I spend evenings conversing with strangers, but I remain disconnected. Of course, I realise now, that no matter where you go, you have to take yourself with you…There’s one thing I wish I could miss.