I think that leaving home when you are young is hard because you keep your heart tucked away under the sheets of your bed, so that when you’re away you feel a constant longing to go back. No more, though. There comes a time when you pull away the blankets, you pick your heart up and you nestle it softly in your chest, where it belongs. So that, no matter where you go, no matter how far and no matter for how long, you can be whole. You can live deeply and fully, without a subtle tugging to return to where you once were. You realize that forward is better than backwards and that there is far too much adventure out there to let yourself be tacked down. You don’t have to miss home anymore because you take home with you.
It would be nice to get to a place like this eventuallly. ventisette:
my life right now.