Oh, people! *rolls eyes*

I just missed writing.

I guess I miss writing because I miss talking to people.

I have become one of those ladies that you run away from at the supermarket. I am begging for a conversation. But not just any conversation… I miss talking to people I find interesting and people who make me laugh. You know… people who know who Jordan Catalano is.

Ironically enough, I thought about leaving facebook today because, even though I live on the other side of the world and have no friends around, sometimes, some of the people I left behind STILL manage to exhaust my patience with their posts about the shit they believe in and that I just… don’t.

I miss people because right now there are only 10 people in my life. But I still wish there were like 20… tops!

Nothing complicated about that.

And this is what I doodled today… it’s not related at all to how I was feeling. Or is it? I don’t know…

doodle

 

Please, take me home.

I was reading this beautiful blog and it got me thinking about things…. The way she describes Canada as her home and also the home of her great, great grandparents with so much love and affection got me thinking about what it must feel like to be home.

I’ve been fantasying about walking into my own house, to find my family sitting by the dinner table, or perhaps just having a video game slumber party in the living room for way too long. The house in my head is not big and beautiful. It’s small and cozy… it’s also ours and it makes us not want to leave.

It is a sad thing to not feel at home where you live, to not have your own house. It’s a feeling of abandonment. You want to go home, but home is nowhere to be found.

Ever since I was a young girl I wanted to leave this place. I remember opening my window and crying over the view. I was seven. Everything was deteriorated  and poor and just plain sad. I didn’t belong here. It wasn’t the worst place in the world, it was just not where I wanted to be. I can’t really put my finger on the reason why I’ve never liked it in here… but it’s there, lost in my memory somewhere.

That same window has been threatening me for 33 years now. I haven’t moved an inch, but things are about to change. We are leaving, finally.

People say I should stay and fight for this place, but I don’t think it’s really my battle to fight for a place I’ve never loved. I think I’m lucky to leave. I’ve never wanted to stay.

I just need to be somewhere where I can open my window and smile even if the sky is gray. Specially if the sky is gray, actually. I seem to find the winter rather poetic and welcoming. I’ll finally see the snow.

I hope we all find our homes… and I also secretly, or not so secretly, hope the people in this new place don’t see us as intruders. I hope my girls are well accepted… I’m not really worried about me, as long as they are fine.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed and my hopes up. A better life is about to start.

Wish me luck,

Love,

Shelly