Another summer day
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmm
May be surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
Another sunny place
I’m lucky, I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home
Let me go home
I’m just too far
from where you are
I wanna come home
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmm
May be surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
Splat. Splat.
My tears dropped one after another from my face and splashed on my desk as I looked at pictures from home and listened to Michael Buble. Isn't it funny how you don't hear a song for years, then it arrives in your head the second its lyrics pertain to your situation?
But unlike Michael Buble's song, I'm not in Paris or Rome. I'm the closest I've ever been to hell. At least, that was what went through my head as I slammed my car door and fumbled for the key to my apartment after attending a barbecue at my husband's friends house. I thought getting out would be good for me, but I'm starting to think it only reminds me even more that I'm not at home.
They say time heals all things. Really? Because it's been six months and I still feel bitterness and denial everytime I leave the apartment. Although there are many things I loathe about this state (so far, everything), my feelings only grow more intense when asked to list them. And so, I've stopped listing them (and I apologize if you're one of the nice people that I have met during my stay who experienced a vibe of this hostility).
I'm too big of a fan of life to allow myself to count down the years until we're allowed to leave and never look back. So until that time comes, this is one obstacle I don't feign to have figured out. All I can do is remind myself how lucky I am to have the most important thing that matters, my husband. So many other Navy wives have to miss their husbands for ten months at a time. When I remember this, I want to shut my big mouth and hang my head.
But I still miss the palm trees. Feeling the sun bake my skin. Hanging out with my family every Sunday. And being able to wear dresses practically all year long. Even wearing a cute dress has lost its fun in Texas. I don't know, maybe it's because no one here appreciates a good cute dress (and those who do show it with sexually suggestive language). No offense to the barely existent amount of friends that I have made within the last six months who might be reading this, but Texans seem to be kinda weird like that. And I just want to go home.
Another aeroplane My tears dropped one after another from my face and splashed on my desk as I looked at pictures from home and listened to Michael Buble. Isn't it funny how you don't hear a song for years, then it arrives in your head the second its lyrics pertain to your situation?
But unlike Michael Buble's song, I'm not in Paris or Rome. I'm the closest I've ever been to hell. At least, that was what went through my head as I slammed my car door and fumbled for the key to my apartment after attending a barbecue at my husband's friends house. I thought getting out would be good for me, but I'm starting to think it only reminds me even more that I'm not at home.
They say time heals all things. Really? Because it's been six months and I still feel bitterness and denial everytime I leave the apartment. Although there are many things I loathe about this state (so far, everything), my feelings only grow more intense when asked to list them. And so, I've stopped listing them (and I apologize if you're one of the nice people that I have met during my stay who experienced a vibe of this hostility).
I'm too big of a fan of life to allow myself to count down the years until we're allowed to leave and never look back. So until that time comes, this is one obstacle I don't feign to have figured out. All I can do is remind myself how lucky I am to have the most important thing that matters, my husband. So many other Navy wives have to miss their husbands for ten months at a time. When I remember this, I want to shut my big mouth and hang my head.
But I still miss the palm trees. Feeling the sun bake my skin. Hanging out with my family every Sunday. And being able to wear dresses practically all year long. Even wearing a cute dress has lost its fun in Texas. I don't know, maybe it's because no one here appreciates a good cute dress (and those who do show it with sexually suggestive language). No offense to the barely existent amount of friends that I have made within the last six months who might be reading this, but Texans seem to be kinda weird like that. And I just want to go home.
Another sunny place
I’m lucky, I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home
Let me go home
I’m just too far
from where you are
I wanna come home
aww.. i've been soo homesick the last few days too - idk what it is.. i love my husband, my in-laws, my job, & my friends here.. but i miss my family & my hometown sooo freakin' much.. it kills me that i'm so far away and weekend trips home are getting SO expensive [curses on the gas companies] and my little siblings are growing up and i can't see them.. and i miss being able to sit down and talk with my mom.. and laugh with my daddy.. and hug on my little siblings.. *sigh* so i hear ya..
ReplyDeleteWell when I was in Pensacola---which was about 8hrs from home---I was fine. I don't think I even felt homesick. But this is a whole different part of the world where everything is different. I feel its difference everyday. And, thanks to gas prices, there's no leaving it. Why did we grow up?
ReplyDeleteThings will get better; they always do. I've been to Australia for three weeks (without a single family member or friend), Boston (for a very lonely 3-month internship), and am now working a great job, but stuck in a very horrible little town with no friends or family. And I've met VERY few people who I would even consider hanging out with.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you have Roberto. You always make the most of every day, it seems, so keep doing that. Remember the joys of the little things in life, and don't forget to examine the reason why you love life itself.
I'm sure I will be in your boat soon. But until then, cheer up! :)