My tree

While being here, I thought I was experiencing a deep feeling of homesickness, but I was wrong. I was not longing to be back home, for I have none. I have no place that I can give such a label. I don't know if I was longing for anything. It was loneliness. A deep kind of loneliness, a seed that was planted many years ago. And I have felt this loneliness take root and burst out of the ground over a year ago. But now, with no distractions, with no lies and deceptions, this loneliness is flourishing. Branching out, growing, thriving, showing its true colors, showing whether it bears fruit or thorns.

This loneliness is more real than anything I've experienced. More tangible than the bed I lie in. Its voice is clearer than any teacher talking before me. Its company is more consistent than any friends'. And it's love, more real than any parents.

But, I am planning on change. A new variable to take place. For this tree, growing inside me, I do not see it as a hollow tree, deadened to life. It is not chared, black, hollow, or lifeless. It is vibrant, or it will be in the future. This tree is my home. Its branches will protect me from the winds, its leaves will protect me from the rain. And its trunk will keep me warm at night when I feel myself growing cold. This tree has its own heart beat, its own life. We feed off each other, provide for each other, give and take from each other, love each other. Perhaps it is easier to see this tree as my soul, if we have such things. All things must be created from something, and I have the power over the soil in which my tree feeds from. For now, it is out of my control and the tree will continue to grow from this loneliness.