Why I Go Home.

I left in a hurry the other night. I went home to a situation I didn’t want to be in in that moment. I let my emotions get the best of me for a brief minute and knew I needed to get out.

I left in search of something. A better feeling, steady ground, calm, peace. I landed amongst too many people but where I needed to be, with a cool wind stroking my face telling me there will be better days. My negative mind fought against this comfort, insisting there was no true purpose to my existence, my recovery should never have been, and the life I desire is so far out of reach it is basically impossible. But my legs carried on although my mind raced and attempted to strike me down. The sun set, the air cooled, I couldn’t get out of my head.

Then I got in my car to head back to where I didn’t want to go. There waiting for me was a tiny little voice. “I miss you,” she said. Two seconds is all it took to shatter my heart.

I went home to her. She is always why I go home.

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