As Friday approaches, the weight of impending farewells presses down on my heart. It's as if the universe conspired to remind me of a poignant poem I stumbled upon ages ago:
Everyone is home!
You're 10 years old and everyone is home. Mom is cooking, dad is watching TV, and your siblings are doing their own thing, but everyone is home.
You're laying in your childhood bedroom, dreaming of the day where you get to grow up and be on your own.
You wanted to be older so badly that you forgot to take in the comfort of everyone being home. Now, you're in your 20s and you wish you could go back.
You and your siblings have all moved out. Your parents have aged, and they're trying to get used to the term "empty nesters." You start to notice their grey hair and wonder where all the time has gone.
You realize that there will never be another day where you all live together again. Your siblings aren't just in the other room, they are somewhere else.
Every now and then you will visit, but you will never stay. You will never play together again, you will not wake up and eat breakfast together every morning, and there will be no more family movie nights. You won't even see each other everyday.
I am longing for the feeling of home, but I can't go back. My childhood home has been ripped down, and pieces of it are scattered in all different places. Nobody is home.
You're laying in your childhood bedroom, dreaming of the day where you get to grow up and be on your own.
You wanted to be older so badly that you forgot to take in the comfort of everyone being home. Now, you're in your 20s and you wish you could go back.
You and your siblings have all moved out. Your parents have aged, and they're trying to get used to the term "empty nesters." You start to notice their grey hair and wonder where all the time has gone.
You realize that there will never be another day where you all live together again. Your siblings aren't just in the other room, they are somewhere else.
Every now and then you will visit, but you will never stay. You will never play together again, you will not wake up and eat breakfast together every morning, and there will be no more family movie nights. You won't even see each other everyday.
I am longing for the feeling of home, but I can't go back. My childhood home has been ripped down, and pieces of it are scattered in all different places. Nobody is home.
And now, as Nohin prepares to embark on his own voyage, the ache of separation gnaws at the very core of my being. He is more than a friend; he is my confidant, my anchor amidst life's tempestuous seas. Together, we wove dreams of a shared future, envisioning a tapestry of togetherness that now lies in tatters at our feet.
In the quiet moments of reflection, I find myself yearning for the simplicity of childhood, for the days when goodbyes were but a distant specter, shrouded in the mists of tomorrow. Yet, life, with its capricious whims, has charted a course beyond our control. And so, I bid adieu to innocence, to the sanctuary of home, clinging to the fragments of memories like shards of shattered glass.
For in the end, as the echoes of laughter fade into the ether, I am left with the bittersweet symphony of nostalgia, a silent requiem to the home we once knew.
I miss being a 10 year old, wish we never grow up and never had say our goodbyes!
Friday has arrived, and Nohin is leaving. 😢 I'll miss him terribly. Soon, everyone will scatter, and I can't predict when we'll all be together again in our 10-year-old home. Home—a treasure trove of memories, nestled deep within my heart. It's where I was known, where I was shaped.
I yearn to return, to that decade-old sanctuary where everyone belonged.
