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“Yeah, Mom, I just got back home. I’m unpacking now.”

-Anonymous Handsome Devil

            It’s weird that I consider this poorly-lit, falling-apart, too-cold room to be my “home” now. 

            And now I am back, sideways-squatting in this narrow bed, getting used to it again after sleeping in my old, wide, beautiful bed back in Dallas for half of a week. And I can't shut my body down for the night because of the beating mechanics of my heart and the wiry conflicts and emotions swirling around in the deep whatevers of my brain. And all I can really do is let the noise of the almost-broken air-conditioner to waft over me, and let me sleep.

            I miss my home. My other home.