Washed Out Christmas Eve

I miss the sun, and its warmth. 

I miss being able to catch you on short dates, even when we both are tired. So we can just eat and not talk, but we eventually end up talking anyway.

I miss my bed, my bedroom where I have all my knick knacks and crafty things. And my plants- Spung, 乐乐, Zazzy, Christmas.

Lying on the hotel bed just now, I thought: "Where do the tears go? Where do they flow?" Does crying over homesickness, loneliness, identifying with unnamed strangers out there, brokenness, end with something? 

I cannot know in this world, but I know I shall in eternity... Perhaps for this reason, tears can flow freely. Otherwise, it is such a waste to be so tired and worn out crying alone. I might as well head home, stay home. 

But I am here. I am here and.. I am just here. Will I stay, can I stay.. one step at a time. "Show me the way that I should go, for to you I lift up my soul... Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground." (Psalm 143: 8b, 10)