Did you ever think you’d like to visit the moon?

What it always comes down to is who gets disappointed.

Sometimes, we are not presented with the choice between a good choice and a bad choice.  Sometimes, we are given the option of a bad choice or a worse one.  Or maybe, as so frequently happens, 2 options of equal distaste.

There is something missing.  And I don’t think I’m going to find it here, or anywhere else.  Not now.  Maybe never.  I was never one of those kids who was dead set on leaving home the days after high school graduation.  But 2 short weeks after my graduation, I was out on my own.  By my own choice, but it was the better of two undesirable options.  Be evicted with my parents or strike out on my own.  It seemed to be a matter of self-preservations, and as I have so little self to preserve, it seemed natural.  I could not bear the idea of having home taken from me–leaving willingly seemed more acceptable.  But the willingness was a farce.  It was enough at the time. 

I am not a bold person.  I am no adventurer.  I thrive on security, warmth, comfort.  There is not greater pleasure for me than being warm and safe in bed.  And now…now I feel like a house with a poorly laid foundation.  Like I’m placing everything important to be on a surface with nothing underneath.

"And I’d give it all away, just to have somewhere to go to.  And I’d give it all away,  to have someone to come home to."

As I stumble forth into adulthood, I find myself desperately looking for an anchor, for something to hold me down.  The security of having somewhere to call "home."  All the while struggling to maintain this image of independence and self-confidence.  I am unprepared for whatever lies ahead, and someday, someone will notice.  They’ll notice that I’ve been bullshitting since day-fucking-one.

Every day, every choice, leads me further from ever feeling warm and comfortable and safe again.  It’s selfish, and it’s pathetic, but that’s all I want from life.  I don’t want world peace, or greatness, or a really nice car.  I just want to feel like I’ve come home one more time.