Quandries

I went home again this weekend.

Because it was too many deaths in too few of weeks, because my grandpa is switching states to not live in an empty, lonely house, because my cousin is one of the most driven and caring people I know. Because of a boy.

I love it here. I love the freedom that comes with being here, how I can just go to my room and be by myself sometimes and nobody is trying to force me to socialize, how when I do feel like participating in the world, it's right there, blocked only by my doorway.

Sometimes, though, it really hits home how far away everything is. How I didn't know how sick she was because we were so far away. How I can't help my person when she's feeling at her worse because she's so far away. That's hard.

That's why I cherish my times back with them. Because it's hard, but I get to see moments of triumph when my cousin pours every ounce of himself into a race, so much that he becomes physically ill, then carry the person who he just beat to the awards ceremony and congratulate everyone who beat him and all those that he beat.

I get to see my grandpa laugh.

I get to bear hug my friend.

I get to learn what my parents are doing with their lives now that they have an empty house, devoid of children and grandparents.

But it's hard to go back, because I have my freedom here, I have space to be comfortable. Because in the end, what I need is here. And what I want is there.