There's not really much more to add. I just want to go home. It's an underlying feeling that I have most of the time, but today it is at the surface.
We got to go home. Twice. The last time, just for a few months, it was wonderful. Until it all went horribly wrong.
So here we are again.
Don't get me wrong. Here is not a bad place. It is safe and interesting and generally good. But it is not there.
And I kind of feel like a Disney heroine about to break into some kind of song that beseaches "WHEN?". When can I go home with home not being a place of angst and turmoil and pain?
I am a brave girl. I think I have earned the right to say that. But every now and then I feel a crack.
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