Homesick

I have never once questioned my decision to come out to California. I still won’t. But I feel guilty in a way. I feel like i’m missing out on the lives of my family. My dad, my sister, my aunt, uncle and cousin. I’m extremely close with all of them, but I see them maybe 3 times a year, 4 at the most. I haven’t seen any of them since winter, and probably won’t until Thanksgiving. That’s a damn long time. My sis is heading back home to Boston after living in Colorado the past 4 years. I think maybe that’s the catalyst for my thoughts. Somehow I didn’t feel so bad because she also headed out west. But now, everyone will be in Boston and New York, and i’ll be out in LA. I feel disconnected. out of touch. I don’t know what’s going on in the lives of those closest to me. Sure I email with my dad every week or so. But I talk to my sis and aunt/uncle/cousin hardly ever. You need family to reassure you, to give you strength when you feel weak. To love and support you in your decisions, through the bad times and the good. They are your conscience, your wall to bounce off of. I have been to exactly one sporting event with my dad in the last 4 years. This, after us averaging probably 20 a year the previous 4 years. I feel a hole in my heart. I need to be needed, want to be wanted. Love to be loved. Don’t get me wrong, these past couple months have been some of the most fun, happiest times probably ever in my life. I’ve been going out constantly, doing all kinds of fun stuff, hanging out with some great people. But that’s not always enough. This is the side of me I keep hidden away from sight. It comes out in my thoughts and dreams, my writing and my release. I float away, lost in my own world. It’s filled with gods and monsters, all created by me, for me, to me. I am the center of my world, but I feel like i’m sliding away. Things change on the outside, but the inside is still the same. The inside hasn’t changed a bit. Years fly by. Friends fly by. Girls fly by. School flies by. Work flies by. But my heart remains, unbridled in its passion, but surrounded by the darkness of uncertainty. Clouds swirl and drift, making shapes visibly different to each eye.That’s my exterior. My interior is a rock. Strong, tough, hard, cracked.