The sunken feeling deep in the pit of my stomach is a draw from my aching heart. I must leave, I know that – but when will I return?
The uncertainty of that is what scares me.
When next will the sun be so warm, the breeze so cool and the sounds around me so calming?
When next will I hear the wind blowing through the trees, the bees buzzing in the background and hundreds of birds calling out to each other in an endless chatter?
When next will I feel so at ease, so calm and relaxed?
Written when I realised how real the feeling of homesickness can be, no matter your age.