homesick tessa it's different to what i expected. it's not a longing to go back. it's more like mourning. loss of a place and a person who will never be the same. i miss it, but i know it is gone. 080424 ... tessa On the way home from the gym last night, I passed a billboard advertising Qantas. It was a big photo of a plane, flying over Sydney. I stood there for about 5 mins staring at the photo. 080515 ... unhinged guess i've wasted another year waste my time hanging out round here piss my change down the well ran dry save my strength up for what am i hey mom why'd you pull the plug couldn't live with a slow down death sweep these ashes beneath your rug save your strength up for one last breath the only one well fuck you we're all afraid what would you do? don't you know there's no way out? no way out no way out there's no way out frank silver, ivet flooded with memories black beauty les pauls staring his mom in the face at the atlantic showcase 'hey mom why'd you pull the plug?' and i miss those shows just about more than anything (except for my family) recordings have never done it justice 080515 ... margaux i am home sick today 080516 ... tessa 14 flavours of homesick 080530 ... unhinged sick of this mean grey town no way out not the courage to get up and go somewhere new 'there's no way out' i get it now not longing for home that's not what he meant by homesick but more literally sick of home 090430 ... tail-devouring snake for the home that is still being created. more like futuresick, longing for the unique manifestation of peace, care, rejuvenation. peace in my mind has been largely created, lingering darkness of the past has been cleared out. i'm moving toward what i want, every day, even with the discomfort and disruptive sensations of my body. my life is the canvas of my artistic desires. relationships, friendships form and bloom. on the horizon is the warmth and fullness that i desire. it is on the horizon but also swirling around me, being woven. my yearning for more, my determination for more pulls me into momentum, this futuresickness, this homesick for my bountiful life. 141208 ... tender_square he leaned against the countertop and stared through the window above the sink, into the sloping backyard pooling with rain. she brushed parchment-thin sheets of phyllo with olive oil. it wasn’t like him to stay with her when his portion of preparing dinner was done. “is everything alright?” she turned her head. “yeah. why?” he continued to look through the window. she wondered if she’d been wearing a pained expression he’d caught. “you just seem down.” “maybe.” she dipped the silicone brush into the cup of oil and dabbed. “i guess i’m upset about my grandma.” her grandmother was being moved into a new nursing home, one across the street from her aunt in the county, one that was dated and prison-like. it was very likely that it would be the last place her grandmother would ever live. she continued. “i’m also upset about my dad.” a few days prior, they had gathered in her hometown for her father’s seventieth birthday and he was in good spirits. but she understood this to be an anomaly; at the bar, he ran into a guy he knew indirectly. her dad had eaten at this guy’s dad’s restaurant every day for years, back when her dad worked as a mover, right before he became a taxi driver. the guy he was chatting with had also worked with her mom at the first hair salon she was ever cut hair in. the two men stood and traded stories about the past for nearly an hour. her father was animated and witty, repeating anecdotes that his conversation partner didn’t notice because he was drunk. “i think i’m feeling homesick,” she said. she had to start telling the truth of how she felt, even if conflict arose from it. “we were just there.” “i know.” “so what is it, exactly? do you want to live there?” “i don’t know.” she did know. “is it just wanting to be there more for your family, like you said?” she remained focused on her brushing and layering. “yeah. i just want to be able to help my mom out more. she’s a strong person, but i know she needs more support and time for herself.” “and you can’t really offer that if we’re only there once in a while.” “exactly.” “well, we’ll be able to do more when we stay longer over the summer.” “i know.” she looked at him. he was contemplative as he gazed out of the window. “are you okay?” “yeah, i just get worried about what this means for us sometimes.” she raised her hand to his shoulder and rested it there. “i thought that might be the case. this is why i haven’t wanted to say anything.” “we can still keep the paperwork on the table,” he offered. “i know. but i don’t want you to feel any pressure to do that. that’s a decision that has to come from you.” “that’s a decision that has to come from *us,*” he corrected her. “it’s just…i’ve lived here for eight years, this has become my home. and i’m only beginning to get out there.” “i know. and i want you to be able to do that. i think that it’s important that you be able to do that. which is why i don’t want to put any pressure on any of this.” they both looked out the window, at the rainwater that inundated the back corner of their lot, a lake the sodden ground refused to absorb. “you know, back when we first started discussing this paperwork, before we bought the house, i think our talk of moving wasn’t the right way of going about it either; i think it was us bypassing you having to do anything here.” “i’ve had the same impression lately.” he waited a beat. “you do feel like we’re going over enough? i’m not keeping you from being there, right?” “no, no,” she assured him. “i’m very grateful for how often we’ve gone. it’s been every month since the border opened, for days at a time. i appreciate that.” “it will get easier when we don’t have to do the testing in advance, it will allow for impromptu trips.” “i know.” it still wasn’t enough for her. “you’re going to blindside him with this,” her mother warned. at least she had offered some indication that a line tugged at her from across the border, a directive which whispered that it was time for her to come home. 220324 ... tender_square she stood in their doorway and mentioned that her girlfriend was moving back to michigan from texas. “i cried when i read her text.” “why?” “because i think it will be really good for her to be home. i said that i never wanted to pressure her about it. and even if it's only temporary, i’m grateful to have her close.” her friend had been having a rough go of things; she wasn’t financially stable, she wasn’t working in her field, she didn’t have a serious relationship—not that these were barometers of success, but her friend was upset by these “perceived” deficits and her anxiety was worsening as a result. she was alone in the south without the support of her family and friends to stabilize and support her daily. he shrugged from his seat in bed. “i guess.” “why do you say that?” “i just—” she could tell he was trying to tread carefully— “i don’t want her energy to impact us.” she could’ve shaken her head and walked away like she usually did, chalking his response up to his need for the two of them to be the unassailable couple. “how would it possibly impact us?” “well, she’s not a stranger.” “yeah, but she’s not family either. she’s a friend.” she thought about how her girlfriend had expressed a desire to get sober the last time she was with them, looking to the two of them for advice on how to get started. “wait—are you saying that because she smokes weed?” “yeah.” “it’s not like she does it around us, in fact she makes a point not to.” he was getting agitated, reaching for his headphones to signal the end of their conversation. “i have a right to want to protect myself, okay?” “she will very likely be living with her parents and that’s an hour away from us.” his sobriety had been unwavering for a decade. it wasn’t the weed he was concerned about, especially when he never smoked it; he was worried his wife would see what being home would do for her friend and that she would want the same for herself. 220523 ... tender_square "it's more like when it's been a while since i've last been home, and there are weeks i have to wait to return still, that the feeling inside me to get back becomes more desperate, this urge to be there. and i think it's because when i'm there, the possibilities for my future are present. and when i've been away for too long," her speech halted and she began to sob, the rest of the words tumbling out in a rush of speed. "i lose touch with that belief, and i need the belief to keep going." 220801 what's it to you? who go blather from