A place that I can no longer call home

Northern Ireland, where I was born and raised, a place I’ve called home for 24 years of my life.

But things change and things happen, I found my home in Crawley.

I felt alive, free, I felt like myself the confident and bubbly girl that has been trapped, has came out alive.

A real smile instead of a fake, smiling from ear to ear, that he finally found peace and I’ve been set free.

Northern Ireland I arrived back Monday night, the 12th of August, that smile was wiped, while tears streamed, the confident and bubbly girl went back into her shell, she doesn’t exist while she’s over here. 

There’s no purpose or reason for her to stay alive, her purpose has diminished into thin air. 

No where to be found, she’s lost, she’s trying not to commit suicide, the thoughts are constantly in her mind. 

There’s no where to run or hide, not even in her flat, a flat that was once her home, but no longer is. 

Northern Ireland is a place I can no longer call home, I want to commit because of how I feel, but I know I can’t because that confident and bubbly girl is bursting to come out of her shell. She can’t commit because in 2 years time she’ll be over in Crawley, permanently. 

Crawley, a place she could call home, a place she felt safe and secure, a feeling she’s been longing to feel, holding on to make that girls dream come true. 

Because Northern Ireland is a place I can no longer call home.