Everything I ever loved

I hate this, this despair, this loneliness, this emptiness. People don't understand; they say "you're only homesick" or "I understand, I was homesick my first year too." You don't understand. You can go home whenever you want. You live two hours away, you have a car. At least you have the option of going home, I don't. You didn't leave everything you ever loved to go to a place that you hate, or at least despise for everything it's done to you. I have seven more weeks of this - this pain before I can go home and try to heal. I just hope that there will be something left of me by then.

Michael, I miss my Michael. I miss his smile, his laugh, his sarcasm. I miss the fact that I can't tickle him until he grabs my wrists to make me to stop. I miss the feel of his lips on my forehead. I miss hugging him and realizing that my head only comes up to the bottom of his clavicle. I miss the fact that I can't even look at his face and see how much he loves me. I want to go back home to Washington. I miss Washington so dearly. That is my home. I miss seeing trees of all shapes and sizes clumped together all over the place. I miss the grey drizzle and the thrill of seeing the sun when it peeks through the clouds. I miss the fact that I can be crazy strange in Bellingham and no one cares, everyone smiles at it and shrugs their shoulders "It is Bellingham after all." Washington will always be my home. I will always say when asked where I am from "Washington."