i am homesick tonight. i miss having romances that arrived like weather, energy that encouraged me to want things. i want to be the person who used to still have dreams that felt like destinations instead of vague regrets i kept rescheduling.

i miss staying up because the conversation was better than tomorrow.

i miss the reckless hope that used to make me say yes before i’d even thought the question through.

i miss believing i had time left to become someone unforgettable.

my favourite hobby now is wasting my time envying other people’s lives. i scroll past photos of people i used to know. i see their arms around each other, mouths open in mid-laugh, backgrounds full of light. i feel the same dull pang i get when i pass the house i grew up in, but the curtains are different. it is still the right address. it just doesn’t recognize me anymore.

while standing at the kitchen sink, hands in hot water, i stare at the dark square of window like it's a door i could walk through. somewhere on the other side of the glass is a place where i still belong the way a key belongs to its lock. a place where home hasn't learned yet how to miss me while i'm standing inside it.

i turn off the tap. silence returns and snow falls beyond the glass, covering tracks i never made.

i am here, and the homesickness folds itself beside me, my loyal companion who knows the way home better than i do.