I’m sitting on a bed that isn’t mine. In a town where I’m not sure I belong. I thought this was supposed to be home.
Home isn’t supposed to change. Maybe the leaves will look different, or the sports teams will get better.. but home? The people who you love, and are supposed to love you too.. they aren’t supposed to change.
On the same token, Springfield isn’t home either. There too I sit on a bed that isn’t mine, but technically is, and I don’t ever feel like I’m where I SHOULD be spending my time.
I feel as though I’m going through the motions of living a life that isn’t mine. That shouldn’t be mine. But I don’t know how to explain it.
My home, my family, and my heart are in Independence. Some of my best friends are in Columbia. But my school is in Springfield. 3 hours separates me from where I am, and where on most days, I want to be. And I’m not sure what that means.
I’m not sure how to fix what should be my heart. Mostly because it’s broken. And not the kind of broken that you get over. The kind of broken that never heals. The kind that always hurts. The kind where every time something bad happens, you feel like it just got broken all over again.
I miss my Gramma. And I miss my mom. Difference being, I can only enjoy the time left with one of them. I love my mom. And I really hate being so far away from her.
I don’t know what I want anymore. Out of life, out of love, out of anything.
I really don’t. And I’m sick of trying to figure it out. I’m sick of everyone telling me I have to. I’m sick of crying, and being sad.
I’m sick of being torn down.
But I’m the one who is doing it to myself. And I’m not sure how to stop anymore.
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