I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say, ‘Come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’
In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.
Homesickness is just a state of mind for me. I’m always missing someone or someplace or something. I’m always trying to get back to some imaginary somewhere. My life has been one long longing.