Torn.

If people would just stop asking me if I am happy to be back from Canada, I wouldn’t have to keep saying “no”.
Every time I say it I feel torn between my two realities.
And if people would stop looking at me when a sneaky tear rolls down my cheek, I’d really appreciate that.
If people would stop staring at me when it’s obvious I am upset, that would help too.

It’s bad enough feeling the way I do, having to resume life as it was before I left and having tears very close to the surface, ready to roll at any moment, without people looking at me all the time and uttering complacent little consolations like “it’s the jetlag” and “you’ll be right when you get back into it”.

I’m not OK right now. That’s all there is to it. Just let me be.
I’m not depressed.
I’m sad.
There is a world of difference.

It would be so much easier if I were completely happy to be back. But that isn’t how it is and it doesn’t feel as though that’s going to happen. Not yet, anyway.

Now more than ever, I know part of me belongs there.
Part of my heart got left behind.

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