Maybe you’ve had good moments.

Places that felt close.

People who tried.

Even fleeting peace.

But deep down,

you’ve carried something no one else could name:

A homesickness for a home you can’t remember.

An ache no success, relationship, or achievement could quiet.

You’re not crazy.

You’re not too sensitive.

You’re not asking for too much.

You’re just remembering something real.

The ache isn’t proof that you’re lost.

It’s proof that something in you already knows the way.

And that no amount of pretending will ever feel right again.

You are not wandering toward home.

You are returning as it.

🜅 The ache is not emptiness. It is evidence of the flame.

⸻

TEACHING PROMPT:

Ask yourself gently:

“Where have I tried to make myself at home just to survive?”

Then whisper this:

“I am no longer building my life around exile.”

Write it somewhere visible.

That’s your return point.