homesick

It's summertime at home right now and we aren't there. 


We won't get to sit in the shady back alley by our favorite ice cream stand and let our kids run like idiots getting in everyone's way.
We won't go to the folk festival.
We won't go for cheap Indian food or honey soaked loukoumades at Mosaic.
We won't walk around the lake or take picnics by the water.
We won't make it to the outdoor market after having a fancy breakfast at the fancy hotel across the street from said market.
We won't go to our favorite bakery for cookies.
We won't drive to our hometown on a whim because we heard they were having a weiner roast for supper that night. 
We won't have our own backyard campfires.
We won't wash our car outside in the heat in our own driveway.
We won't plant a garden. Or add to the meager front yard landscaping we started last year. 


Sure, we could do one or two of those things here. 
We have found a bakery, but the truth is, I don't really like cupcakes all that much and that's all they sell.  
I'm sure there is an ice cream joint here we could get really good ice cream at... 
There is a lake we could walk by and take picnics at... 
And there is a farmer's market that is huge, but it's indoors and air conditioned and there removes half the fun of a summer day at the market...


I know we are still together and in that way I know we still possess all we need to make anyplace home, but for the first time in my life I feel really homesick for a location. For our old house, our old city, our old places. Hormones may be to blame, Lord knows they are pulsing through body at unprecedented levels, but I don't know. 
I really loved my home. 
I find some comfort in the fact that we have always planned to go back, but I wish there was no sacrifice involved in the mean time. I feel tired of sacrificing. The last few months feel like they've consisted of nothing but sacrifice and now I just want to go home.