It's Dark at the End of the Tunnel

Well ever since I've been here I just want to go home. The I realize that I'm here. This is the house I live in but It's not a home. The word "home" should be an adjective not a noun. This doesn't feel like home. I keep thinking that in a week or two I'll be getting back on the planes.

Before all this when I still lived in Beaver Dam I had this feeling that I was so pose to be there. I felt safe, I didn't worry, I knew everything was going to okay, and everything was going to work. Now... I don't know. I don't have that same sense, that sense that gave you comfort of a future. It's like when you make plans with your friends to do something later. You know you're going to do it. Your canvas is painted with all the things that's going to happen.

While I'm here, that sense is gone. My canvas is blank. I feel like something Is going to happen. That I won't make it to the first day of my Junior year. I don't mean I'm going to be late I mean I won't exist anymore. I used to be able to picture myself walk down the isle to graduation, to my first job, my wedding but now, I can't see it. It makes me scared. I've gone down the wrong road. What do you do when you take the wrong fork in the road and the pavement stops. "I can't see"