The Happiest Sadness.

Homesick.

I'm homesick.
Not homesick for my home town, or my dull, pointless childhood, but for a place, I'm not sure exist.
I'm homesick for things that haven't happened yet.
I'm homesick for feeling alive, and kisses, and hugs.
I'm homesick for a pair of eyes, that I haven't found yet, but when I do, I know I'll get lost in them every night.
I'm homesick for the child I long to have when I start my life.
I'm homesick for the elderly love I hope to have one day.
I'm homesick for the feeling of being able to look at a person, and feel calm.
I'm homesick for all that comes, when you finally find home.
This longing, dreadful feeling brings me down most nights.
It leaves me wondering the dark streets looking for home.
It leaves me wishing home was waiting on me, and as soon as I walk through the door, they wrap their arms around me.
Home isn't always a place. It can be a person.
Some of us, just aren't lucky enough to have a home.
So we wait, only to become more homesick.