For so long I wanted to belong to something or someone. I was so unhappy with the way things were shaping. I wanted a simple kind of life. And as I get older, I’m not sure what to make of it.

It’s Saturday night in Toronto — I’m laying across from my mother who is sleeping.

There is a deep sadness that we both aren’t talking about but we both can feel.

How do you lose contact with your family due to war – 30 years later – you find them – come across the country to see them and they aren’t there?

How do I swallow that pill? That horse I’ve beaten that just says you don’t belong anywhere?

No sense of real family or home.

I’m trying so hard to be strong right now, for my mom, but I can’t help but cry in the dark.

I don’t want to be me today… I don’t want to accept these empty feelings anymore.

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