Home is a place where you live. It's a place where you can sleep and cook and read and use the restroom. But my home doesn't feel like home. I want to go home but I don't know where that is.
They say people can be your home. I want that. I have a best friend. I love them so much, but it doesn't feel like home.
None of my friends feel like home. No object feels like home. The one person I could talk to and laugh with is gone. A gun took her away from me.
I have a friend who can sometimes feel like my home. But they don't know everything about me. They don't know the bad stuff. I don't think I'll ever be fully ready to tell everyone the bad stuff.
I've only ever told two people the really bad stuff. But even then I lied. I covered it so it seemed less hurt full. I don't think I have a home.
I say I want a girlfriend. I think if I did tell the person I like I liked them they'd hate me. It's scary because I told her I had a crush on a girl who is another friend but I lied. I didn't have a crush.
I had just started talking to her. She didn't know me well and I didn't know her well. But I felt the need to make myself seem normal. I haven't know her for to long but I fell as if I have developed a crush on her.
Sometimes I wish she was my home. She lives far from me but we could make it work right? I want to be at home. I want for people to know my secrets and for them to not see me broken but to see me as a survivor.
I don't know if I'll ever find a home but I'll keep trying.
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✨My thoughts✨
RandomI don't have a therapist and my friends are probably tried of hearing me rant about stuff they don't care so know I get to dump my sad and shitty life on you
