Monthly Archives: September 2011


What is home? I’ve been looking for home for a long time, in that time I’ve found a lot of things it isn’t.

For instance home is not the vacant former home of one of your friends, neither is it the RV you shared vodka bottle after vodka bottle with said friend. Home is not the bedroom floor at your best friend’s house, no matter how nice it is to pretend you belong to a family it is not your family. Home is also not the mobile home you grew up in after your mother died.

But what is home? Is it a place, a person, a feeling?

Since I was a child I felt like I should be a  nomad. My family didn’t wander, yeah we moved a few times but really no more than average. I felt like I needed to run, needed to get away and experience things I couldn’t experience here. I still feel that way. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt home except when I was with my mom. I was fascinated with gypsies and other wandering folk. I wanted to just pack up and leave but another part of me saw that as selfish. I had people here who needed me, relied on me. I still fight that urge to just run away, to just pack up the few items that mean something to me and run.

I’ve always been fascinated by gypsies and other nomads but gypsies were the top of the list for me. I think if I could be anything I would be a gypsy. Yes, this is just a childhood fantasy but wouldn’t it be wonderful? See new places, meet new people and never feel the restrictions of a “normal” life. I desire the feeling of home more than almost anything, but I’ve determined home doesn’t have to be one set place. I felt at home sitting at Roosevelt Park at 11 0’clock at night drinking cheap beer and talking about life with a good friend, I’ve felt at home playing Magic: The Gathering with my boyfriend at Denny’s. Home is a feeling, not a place.

Home is the comfort of knowing whoever you’re with, you belong. So home is the vacant former home of one of my friends, home is the RV we shared vodka and beer, home is also the bedroom floor of my best friend. This is what gypsies knew that us “normal” people don’t know, home isn’t the house you live in it’s the people you love who love you back.


Dear John

You had my heart, I gave it to you whole and full of trust. You returned shards that have been splintered with the worst kind of heartache. Every promise I made to you I kept, every time I said I’d be there I was there. There was never a time when I was too busy, too stressed, too anything for you. I didn’t do the things I did so I could later throw them in your face in that argument, I did them because I care about you, because you were my friend and you needed me. Yes, I felt more for you than friendship and yes, I wanted it to go somewhere but in the end what I wanted was your friendship.  I wanted those nights we sat in Roosevelt Park, drank cheap beer and talked about everything. I wanted the days we drove in my car singing Cee Lo at the top of our lungs, I wanted the nights we sat in the RV listening to Mumford & Sons and talking about the crappy hand life had dealt us.

I needed you, this wasn’t just my problem it was our problem. We dealt with it together until the aftermath and then you left me alone. You abandoned me when I needed you most, something I had never done to you, would never do to you. I loved you in every way one person can love another. It wasn’t romantic the way you thought it was, it was the kind of love people have for one another when they’ve been to hell and back together. I told you I’d always be your friend, always be here for you and I meant it. I still mean it. I want so much to forgive you, for you to care that you hurt me so deeply.

I miss you so much it tears me apart every time I think about it. Every time I hear a song we listened to or I make a joke about something we did my heart breaks a little more. I trusted you so completely I never thought I’d feel these things and it would be because of you. I’ve given up hope that I’ll ever hear from you again and that breaks me apart inside. I wish what we went through together made a difference to you.