I don't know how to put it into words sometimes. Actually, this is blatantly not true. When a friend doesn't show up on our customary training day, when everyone is engaged in conversations and I take it all in like a stranger in a strange land, when I know that going home will be going back to my dark singular space... I know exactly what words would describe it.

I felt that same heartsick feeling every evening for months, years ago, when a breakup cut me off from all of the friendships I had made in my new home. I felt that same feeling standing atop a freeway overpass as a teenager, watching the sunset with my ridiculously heavy backpack and a notebook full of poems.

So I keep myself busy. Go to the gym, grab some dinner, make some plans to take my mind off the edge. Buy some fro yo, and fill it to the brim with fruit.

This is not homesickness. But I cannot bring myself to say what it is.