Homesick.

Tonight, I am homesick. I say that often these days as I get back into the swing of this new semester. What does it mean? What is homesickness?  According to old Mr. Webster, it’s “a longing to return home. Thanks M dubs, very specific. That, kind sir, does not do justice to how I am feeling. Homesickness certainly feels like a whole lot more than a longing. Sometimes it feels so desperately overwhelming and trapping that I may do just about ANYTHING to get in my car and make the two hour trek home, even just to meet my best friend for lunch.

Homesick feels like an inward emotional sickness for the place I call home. Not just home though, it’s still so much more than that. It’s not so much a longing for a place or for my house. That’s just a building with four walls and windows and closets and doors. To me holds nothing of value on its own. It’s not so much longing for just my hometown either. That’s just a place with streets and turns and buildings and signs. No, to me, homesickness is the when I  look around to realize I am not home, I don’t feel at home and at that moment I cannot go home.

To me, Homesickness is when I realize that home is continuing and I cannot be there. I’m home sick for the moments. The ones that are simple and aren’t recognized for how big and precious they are until they pass or until I’m not there to live them. The moments that I will miss, oh, I’m so homesick for those. You take for granted how much happens in a day, a week, a month or a year until you miss it. I’m sick for the moments where people inevitably move on with their lives because let’s face it, the world stops for no one. Life will be lived whether or not I’m at home. I miss the coffee dates I won’t have, the meals I won’t be at, the pictures that I won’t be in, the inside jokes I won’t understand.

 These things sting to think about and I’m homesick for these things. The moments I have never experienced and will never experience with people that I love. Moments are happening, life is being lived and I am removed. I am away. It’s this longing, nagging feeling that won’t go away until I am there again. It’s a longing for people. For my people. I glance around this dingy dorm room with cinder block walls and ugly carpet and I feel so far away from my people. I’m homesick for my people. I’m homesick for the laughter. For the security of knowing I’m with the ones I love and they’re all right here, experiencing life with me or around me. I want moments to be happening and life being lived with me there not here. It’s the security of knowing I can grab my keys jump in the car and be with them in a matter of minutes.

Homesickness is a longing for something that cannot be replaced or replicated by what is here. No matter how much I love the ones around me. They aren't home base, they don’t know me the same way. They aren't my people. They’re people, and they’re really great people and I love them. But I’m home sick for something that can’t be replaced by them. For someone, for many someones, that can never be replaced. For little someones, for big someones, for my someones. No matter how many framed pictures of happy memories I have. No matter how many phone calls I make. No matter how many ‘I miss you’ text messages I get. I’m home sick for something that can’t be framed, or typed in a text, or explained on a phone call. I’m homesick for my people. I’m homesick for my someones. I’m homesick and I’m sad.