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This is an admission of how I understand my role in this world. How I know that I don’t fit. And it’s okay.

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My body is the house I grew up in
Through her windows, I get to see
Through her chimney, I get to breathe
Her foundation always supporting me

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There’s really no reason to rush. You have to endure the slow and painful process of your becoming. You have to cross every obstacle in life with grace. You have to smile even though your feelings are killing you on the inside.

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The world stands still for a moment. I’m taken aback by how comfortable I feel, almost as if I’m melting into this seat, even with the summer sun burning into my skin. I love the warmth. It reminds me of home.

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Maybe ‘home’ is not about where you are, but about how you feel. The way you find yourself belonging to a person or place, simply because it’s where your heart has decided to rest.

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Displacement.That’s what I call it: the feeling of not really knowing where you fit. When you’re tied to a place you’ve always known but suddenly feel more comfortable somewhere new. When you’re connected to more than one location, considering both of them where you belong

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Find people who don’t take your interest as a sign of weakness or desperation. Find people who don’t label you ‘too much,’ ‘too sensitive’ or ‘too needy’ just because you care.

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I will never forget how you made me feel alive.

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You stand still in a room when everyone’s moving, talking, chuckling, lying, drinking, laughing, dancing, walking pass by you. And you wonder why are you even there in the first place.

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Maybe it’s about letting go of all the things you want to run away from, of all the things that are holding you down. Maybe you’ll find your place when you learn to stay instead of running away.