Washed Out Christmas Eve
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8BmPBegeaDnX0MezhFaOMi6qxHKxApz0P3TdJIo7TJthXru-3jsiMmO9Mjhbjx1wBmIsXbZZIvzcsKcvHQ7Rbf2JxGayIckhEfsPBCn1p31IXmM9BKPUXAB5PRHmpQ5givDbbqxTMhTi/s320/photo_2020-12-24_18-27-01.jpg)
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 gro