on Homesickness

All experiences are veins of precious metals for writers to mine when they create. It is impossible to write about pain and sadness and joy when you have never experienced them.

I try to keep telling myself this is true, willing myself to believe that one day this frustration will lead to something useful. But the thoughts fall flat from my lips and the tears fall thick from my eyes into my stomach.

I thought the surest cure to homesickness, or at least something to relieve the symptoms for a while, was to see at least one person I am homesick for. And in theory this makes perfect sense. And while I'm seeing this person, enjoying their company, stunned into silence by the shock, like before I learned to talk. The shock of actually standing next to them, fingers interleaved between us. And momentarily it does work, the long ache in the pit of my stomach subsides, even vanishes. I feel as if, perhaps, my soul is sparkling and I can see the glow just on the edges of my vision. I want everyone around me to see it and experience their own. When I'm happy I want the whole world to be happy with me, but I would never wish my unhappiness on anyone else.

Then its time to say good bye. And you think even though you will once again be 100 thousand miles away from every thing that your heart yearns for, it will be easier to miss them for a while, because you just held it, however momentarily in the palm of your hand. You were happy for more consecutive hours than you can count on your fingers and toes, that hasn't happened recently. But the feathers left on your palm from the bird you held so close are not a happy consolation prize. You don't want to look at them for the pain of it all. You want to forget that you knew happiness. You want to return to the world where longing is the norm, and all you remember are the brief shadows that you long for. Then sharp pain of tangible happiness stolen away, hurts more than all the burns from a 100 thousand droplets of hot wax on Icarus' skin as he flew towards the sun. At least if he cried as he climbed towards his desires his tears would soothe his burning flesh.