Often times you hear someone say home is where the heart lies. But how can you be sure where it is? When you aren’t even sure where your heart is?
I spent the better part of two nights homesick with nausea and another symptom I rather not mention. When my heart packed what little belongings he had and walked away right onto the next bus out of town.
Given the circumstance. I rushed to hide what tears I shed as I felt a great part of me rip from my already bleeding heart. Held my shoulders high and mighty full of pride. Determined I was not going to appear broken or hurt.
No amount of time spent apart. Time wouldn’t heal my wounded heart.
Tell me why when he sent word to me. I ended up on the first bus, in strong pursuit of this hidden place. 555 miles away I traveled to be in this place. To be with the one I cherish most.
I traveled night and day, bus lagged and bruised. Lost on this journey to the place, just to get to you. I can not deny how I feel. For what I do not say my actions will prove.