Lately, a strong desire to go home will occasionally overcome me. It is not a physical desire. I don't really want to be at home.

Its more an emotional home. Home is where the heart is suppose to be, right? You are suppose to feel safe at home.

I guess this is suppose to be part of growing up. As an adult, we aren't suppose to feel safe and reassured. That level of security is only meant for pre-pubescent kids. After that, we enter this awkward stage of adolescent, where everything is of varying shade of bizarre. Then finally we enter adulthood, when the realities of life meet us head on and we are stripped of any sense of security we may have. I don't know if there are any other stages but I do hope so as I am ready to outgrow this one.

One month will have past since I left what it generally the bane of most people's existence.

What shocks me the most is how I seem relatively unscathed after the last two years. It feels as if my life has just resumed after being placed on pause. The main difference being that the calenders read 2007 instead of 2005.

I would never say that my life was stolen, that it was all a waste. At the same time, I wouldn't really know what to call it. It shouldn't be so easy to forget, to act as if it never happened. It really shouldn't.

Well it seems rather appropriate to start afresh with the coming of a new year.