weekends

I am not sure why the weekends seem to be harder on me. Maybe because what little routine I have on weekdays flies out the window on the weekend? Maybe because I think people will be freer to visit me and that is not the case at all? Maybe I get my hopes up only for them to be dashed?

I walked around a few stores today and longed to be back in Peru. I longed to speak Spanish. I longed to hear the sounds, smell the smells and see the sites. I longed to be with people who are my friends. I wanted to be in a place that I felt safe and comfortable.

I almost started crying a hundred times. I had to keep telling myself to wait until I got home. Wait until it is okay. But when I seem to want to let the tears out, they just don't flow. I feel unhappy and discontent.

I don't feel as though I belong. I know I need to find a place to fit in, a place to belong to. A community. I thought my community was here, and in some way it is. But my community is no longer one, it has split into many parts and I am not sure which I fit into. This has some resemblance to my parents divorcing and creating new families. I wasn't really a part of either although before I was part of the one. I think that is how I feel a little bit.

I wish I knew where to start. I wish I knew where I could fit in, where I could belong, where I could become a part of things. You know I always said it may be easier to "start over" and not return to a place I was once part of. Going back brings up expectations of what once was and will never again be. I don't really know how to release those expectations in order to allow God to recreate things.

I feel really alone here. And I don't like it.