Fuck. I should have realized it sooner. I came out to visit some extended "family". I drove to their house on my birthday. This was the first time I've ever traveled on my actual birthday. I was greeted with hugs and kisses and ice cream cake. This = awesome. Intimate time was had and what happens afterwards but I start crying. My need for touch was greater than I had known, or perhaps that I'd given acknowledgement to.
I was supposed to go home today but I'd taken the day off of work tomorrow and as such, I hemmed and hawed about going home tomorrow instead. I sat and tried to decide which I should do when I realized that I don't want to go home. The very idea of going home made me want to cry. This was a surprise that I didn't expect. I called it a bit of separation anxiety but the severe truth of the matter is that the small amount of time I've gotten here has been better than... that which I don't even want to begin thinking about right now.
At least the ride home will be spent in distraction with the guest I'm bringing home with me who will stay for this week. Some days the bars of the cage of my own making press in too close.
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