If I could forget home, I would be worried about myself, and in no way do I want to be able to; yet this dull ache really hurts. It's the week of Thanksgiving, and I'm lonely and homesick.
We don't have any traditions in particular traditions at home for Thanksgiving, but just being there was enough. It's like being cradled in a very warm and soft blanket, or being held by your daddy. You feel safe and warm and content-- happy.
I'm going to my sister's house here in San Diego on Wednesday, but until then, I'm just hanging out at school and working on homework. It's lonely.
Do you know, when I'm lonely, I stay up very late? I don't really know why. Just staying on the computer makes me feel as though I have a connection to the world, and if I let go I feel vulnerable. I haven't done that since I was at home. Funny-- I still felt lonely at home. I suppose why it seems more significant is that I haven't felt that way here and haven't stayed up late for that reason until last night. Even so, I miss home.
I do love my school. I'm meant to be here; I've been feeling that strongly. Still- I miss it. It's the familiarity, and the routine, and the people, and how it's relaxed and regular.
I thought last night -- as I was threatening to wallow in self-pity-- about how people all over the world feel particularly sad on holidays because their family members or spouses have died. I feel a little of how they must feel, I think, though not so strongly. They must hurt more than I do. I prayed for them, and that was good. It's like I'm being lonely with people, and then we're not lonely anymore.
-Tina
