There is a deep pit that burrows into my stomach when I sit in my car with no apparent place to go. It’s an empty feeling that cannot be satiated by food (even though I try) or comforted by words. It is a present truth, I’ve attempted to silence, that sings, You have no place. You belong no where. Even as an adult I seek to belong somewhere. The comfort of a couch pains me. The general disillusionment of homelessness befuddles me. The smiling faces of church members with rooms to spare angers me. My emotions alert my mental state, and what I have bore when numb is unbearable when present.
I contemplate sleeping in my office. I need to be alone. I want to be alone. Where are you God? I cannot see you. Why am I alone? Why me? Why this? Why so long? No one understands this, not even me.