Home for the Holidays

Being home for the holidays.

That stirs something in me.

This feeling is mixed,

a mixture of eagerness,

but also dread.

This dread.

What's it like?

It's definitely much more than the eagerness.

The fear,

The preparedness,

For hurt, for criticism, for anger.

Is it me?

Am I the one who creates this?

What about when I'm with friends?

I'm happy.

I'm calm.

I'm relaxed.

Then why not here?

At home?

I feel on edge.

I feel tense.

I prepare for the worst I know is coming.

I prepare for the criticism.

My body,

it stays tense and alert,

unknowingly preparing,

protecting itself,

defending me,

From what's to come.

I tell myself,

"Control. Don't let it get to you",

But it's easier to say, isn't it?

I get frustrated.

I get irritated.

I get angry.

I cry.

I shout.

I argue.

I am hurt.

I cry.

It's common now.

I'm used to it.

And still,

I get tense. Why?

This is "home".

Should it not be safe?

A place where I feel relaxed,

A place where I am calm?

But it's not.

I know it's not.

The word "home" means something else now,

to me.

It's the people

It's me.

It's how I feel where I am.

Home is a feeling,

Home is the relationships we have.

Home is love,

Home is peace, calm and understanding.