Things I Miss

I've spent most of today trying to figure out just what I should write about, and while I've been doing a lot of writing lately, it's all been of the sort that I'm never going to post, the things that are written to never be read. I'm just not sure what to think anymore. I feel like everything is becoming so distant and I'm drifting eternally further away from reality and sanity. But I guess this post is as close to what I'm thinking right now as anything else, so I might as well write it that way.

I miss that place. I miss the freedoms it offered me and the way in which it let me just breathe. Because right now, I'm being suffocated and strangled, I can't go a day without wondering if I'm really getting more messed up or if it's only because my life is being repressed by those around me. 31 days. That's how long I have to wait to get back there. To get back to a place where nobody yells at me for being up until unruly hours of the morning, and nobody tries to give me hell for not being perfect, and nobody insists on trying to micromanage my life for me.

But I also miss the air. I miss the clouds, and the rain, and the snow, and the biting wind, and the soothing breeze. I miss lying on the hill in the late afternoon watching the sunset. I miss walking along the long road and feeling free from everything else. I miss waking up with an open window at the beginning of spring and breathing in the essence of the of the flowers blooming outside, seeing the light streaming in despite the blinds.

I miss staying up until ungodly hours of the morning. The time spent talking about anything and everything and sometimes even nothing at all. Those late nights, the irrational proclamations and emotional decisions that took place. I miss having arms to run to when I'm crying, and shoulders to support me when I'm falling apart. I long to once more see the people I left behind and be able to really talk to them, to see their smiles and hear their voices.

Perhaps most of all though, I miss what I know can happen there. The walks in the rain. The hugs that could have lasted hours. The lazy afternoons. The unbounded laughter. The carefully wiped tears. I miss the belief that everything is going to be alright and the knowledge that none of it matters. Really, none of that is because of where I was at the time, none of it is bound to that place, but all of it is eternally indebted to it in my mind because that's how I learned it. That's where I found a piece of myself I hadn't realized was missing, and that's where I'm waiting impatiently to return.