Home sweet home..

.. sort of.

I came home last night so I could go to vote (Senate Election) today. And it felt extremely strange. It was just me and Dad. It was actually the very first time I saw it with my own eyes how Dad lived during the week. Like.. you know, an old man living alone, watching telly and playing with the dog until it was time to go to sleep. There was no one to talk to. The other living thing in the house was a dog. No wonder he sounded quite happy when I rang him to tell him I was coming home.

Well, anyway, not that we talked a lot when I stayed here. But you know, at least, I'm not a dog.

Another reason I came home last night (although I got only one day off and would have to go back to work in town for two more days till weekend) was... I wanted to. I wanted to come back here and sleep in my own bed. I feel safe here. I've been spending so much time in town the past 12 months. But it never feels the same. It's not my house there.

I still feel... hurt. Vulnerable. Wounded. And I want to come home where I feel safe and protected.

As stupid as it may sound, I'm not really ready to go back to things I left before coming home this time - work, life in town, etc. I'm just not ready.

Not exactly Rocket Science to figure out why I feel so vulnerable eh?