3 Rooms & 2 Baths

"What is home" I asked myself as I waited at the airport, in the hour long flight and on the train back into town. I said I was coming home, but what is home to me? I have a house but the only space I have in it is my bedroom. Every other room and space has a barrier, a block.. maybe cos the emotions have been there for so long, I can't get rid of it anymore."

I wished with all my heart, I didn't have to hear those words being said out loud. It serves as another reminder that sometimes, people bury themselves so far in, it'll take a whole lot more than 4 nights of rigourous workouts to be able to fit into that wee tiny hole they have pushed themselves into.

Doesn't matter how tough we are

Trauma always leaves a scar. 

I have been living in my present place for 3 months now. And since the day I unlocked the door by myself, it has had this calming effect on my soul - I knew it in my bones that I could and would call it home. That it would not matter very much if most days I go back to it empty ~ I would be able to sit, sleep, play and rest in it without feeling out of sorts. But that's only happened cos this place is brand new - it has no balconies to sit on and have conversations with the moon, it does not have ghosts lurking in closets, and it wasn't the result of something bad happening in my life.

It may not belong to me, be listed in my books as an asset. Yet, there are those out there who are envious of me and my lil cubby hole in the sky, simply cos it's bright and shiny - like a newly minted penny coin.

It follows us home, it changes our lives. 

Trauma messes everybody up, but maybe that's the point. 

I dunno how else to make things right, to make things better. I know I should not try to be Atlas - taking on the weight of the world on my shoulders. But I cannot also stand by and do nothing, not even a tiny bit. This is my people we're talking about. And to know that my people is choosing to live out of a suitcase instead of home ~ it's not done.

But as I said - I do not know how else to make things better, without seeming to be Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (dead rabbits and all!)

All the pain and the fear and the crap. 

Maybe going through all of that
is what keeps us moving forward. 
It's what pushes us. 

So for now, I cook. I cook what I think would whet the appetite, even tho it's 12.30 in the morning. And I put together lil bits and pieces of this and that ~ CARE Packages to bring about a smile. And I write, all the things I dare to say here but not outloud.

It's not meant to make me a hero. Nor is it meant to carry any hopes.

It's just simply being there for my people, so that they know that even if their own 3 rooms and 2 baths feel strange, they can go right ahead and make mine their own.

Cos there is not worse feeling in the world, than feeling as if you have no home.

Maybe we have to get a little messed up,
before we can step up.