In August I made the move from Mt. Pleasant, Michigan to Lansing, Michigan. I left a lot behind and gained even more with this move. I’ve settled in, and since writing this I’ve become content with where I sit, what I’m doing, and where I’m going. It’s a journey that seemed somewhat defeating at the time, but rest assured, I’ve come out on top 🙂
Hiraeth: (noun) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.
“We’ll miss you” they said, like the air at their parties would hang hollow in my absence.
Like they think of me, kindly, when I am not around.
Maybe I was foolish to believe it,
But they said “We’ll miss you” like they really believed themselves.
Like how I believe they made last year worth the summer chaos.
Like how last August I showed up friendless but by May we were inking ourselves into one another’s skin.
I believed we were permanently climbing rooftops together.
I believed we were close enough to catch if one of us miss-stepped
But most importantly,
I believed every single one of them was worth that potential fall.
Like how we treaded lightly on fallen leaves.
Like how together we would sing tree tops and dance river beds.
“Come visit” they said like they were eagerly awaiting my return.
Like they missed me how they said they would.
Like they still talked about me, kindly, when I was not around.
What they don’t know is that when I was not around
Desperate for some familiar company.
“Come visit” they said.
I should have known trying to return home is a little like jumping hurdles backwards.
I should have known my home with them was only momentarily bound.
They’re the type to only think about this moment.
Maybe I was foolish to believe my past was going to last longer than it did
“We’ll miss you” they said.
“Come visit” they said.
“We don’t know when we’ll see you next” they said like my hour long commute diminished our abilities to remain connected.
Like none of them have a car.
Like filling a gas tank would tie a noose around their neck
Strangling their precious breath as they took steps towards my front door.
Like our friendship could only exist if it were face to face.
Like how they can’t even show up to celebrate another year
So 24 was introduced to faces that labeled themselves my “roommate’s friends”.
When the fuck did our friendships end?
I missed the miss-step.
We misfired drunken jealously and spit spiteful intent through our rolling lips.
I think they forgot we banged hips in hopes of something deeper.
But we sank
Like badly skipped rocks.
I expected to rise with sunshine smiles.
I expected to create commonalities a few more times.
I expected to come home to them.
I’m alone again…
Craving a place I’m not sure I’ve even ever been.