Some days, I want to just be normal for a bit.

I find myself...

... Wanting a hand to show me Home.

... Far away from where I lost myself, and far away from where my course should be. I guess I get along ok, but it seems like this shouldn't be the way that things have to be. If I wished I could go back home, that would be the one place that I could never find myself.

... Inside the cavern of my head, these things make sense for a while, but then it all starts to break down. I thought about the beginnings and the destination, but not the things that would be encountered along the roads. I've had it up to here with losing the map, yeah, I just realized that you can't lose what you never had in the first place. I feel like an idiot.

... Wishing that I hadn't had to do this, but if home isn't going to come around, home has to become a memory. And I feel useless, I feel like I'm just a little less than useless here in the world, when I have this list that never gets done or when I come back up to my room and don't interact with anyone for hours. Would that which I wanted to cling to gone away if I had been a little less me, and a little more normal?

... Not seeing the reasons for the paths, for the waiting, for the tiring nature of what has to be done. Will I make it through this without curling up and crying for a while? When the horizon is dark, and the wind swirls around me, do you still offer the things I need? When I stray, will you bring me Home?

... stuck here waiting.