The nostalgia trip

I’m in an empty house. I see things lying around. Few, as it seems someone just moved out and left little to nothing, uninteresting, things behind.

Things, of course. I bet memories stayed also, maybe good ones, bad ones. I bet it’s hard to leave behind a life spent in a somewhat comfy house.

Maybe your first breath of independence was blew here, right? A stranger in a strange land, living a new life. Maybe you miss your family you’ve left at hometown.

I bet they miss you too. Maybe they tell you they need you. And you went out full of doubts to seek a new beginning, right?
How’s that working out for you?

I used to live here. My old and unwanted stuff is lying around, in a not so tidy manner.

Are my memories here too? What do I cherish so badly, that I had to came back, looking for excuses I don’t need to give to absolutely no one?

I hate these white walls but I miss them so much, they contained my life for around a year. They comforted me when I broke down to tears and anxiety bursts.

Never felt so happy here but I am now.

Is this so weird?

Yes.