As I sat watching the sunset paint the sky a million colors, from angry red to soothing lavender, I found myself unexpectedly moved. Not even sure what brought on the sudden rush of emotion, I fought hard to regain my composure and avoid the obvious embarrassment of a grown man crying at the sight of a beautiful sunset over a field.

Unbidden, all of the memories of my last voyage home came rushing back and I was suddenly at their mercy. The emotional and physical exhaustion were just too much to take, and I found myself sobbing quietly in my seat while the rest of the train’s passengers carried on without a care in the world.

Still hours from “home”, a term I am no longer sure even applies to my destination, I am left alone with my thoughts and memories of a place I try not to think of. I have been trying to bury all of the emotion that comes with this trip; instead concentrating on the possibility of a relationship that I know is doomed from the start. I would say it isn’t fair to my lady-friend, but I know she knows it too. There is no way we could ever work out as anything more than friends, but it affords me a much needed shelter from the coming storm of emotion that will come with seeing my family for the first time since my mother’s passing.

I don’t know where to hide, when I am trying to hide from my own mind. I am held hostage by memories I no longer want, and feelings I can no longer trust. This will be a long and trying month, and I just hope I am strong enough to face all of the things I need to deal with. I have put this trip off for five long years, avoiding it on numerous occasions and opportunities, and practically celebrating the possibility of getting out of it with the offer of a job that later fell through.

Home is a word that means so many things to so many people, and right now I think I am experiencing every emotion and sentiment attached to it all at once. Seven hours from “home” and I am already feeling the pressure building from every direction…