Home is a four letter word.

"Just know that wherever you go, you can always come home" - 93 Million Miles, Jason Mraz.

Life has never been easy and truth is ugly. Sometimes my road seems like a dead end, or a neverending maze with no way out. But when things are about to get worse, I'm glad to know there are always hands I can hold on to, shoulders to lean on to. Wonder how they're never tired of getting me back to the right track, wonder why they never give up.

But then, I couldn't be any more grateful than this.
I call them home. And just like love and life, home is a four letter word.

Sincerely, the lost and found. Big Time.

Very well, but..

One day, my cousin texted me and said, more or less, "Listen to this song." And then he sent me the song. It was a girl singing with a guitar, and the song was not familiar. It was beautiful though.

Then, just like what I always do everytime I discover a good song, I quickly googled it up. Wikipedia said, it was a popular old song, composed by Hoagy Carmichael in 1939 based on an old poem by Jane Brown Thompson. And here is the lyric, read carefully.

I Get Along Without You Very Well

I get along without you very well,
of course I do.
Except when soft rains fall and drip from leaves
then I recall
the thrill of being sheltered in your arms.
Of course I do,
but I get along without you very well. 

I've forgotten you just like I should,
of course I have.
Except to hear your name
or someone's laugh that is the same,
but I've forgotten you just like I should. 

What a guy,
what a fool am I
to think my breaking heart could kid the moon
What's in store?
Should I phone once more?
No, it's best that I stick to my tune. 

I get along without you very well,
of course I do.
Except perhaps in Spring,
but I should never think of Spring
for that would surely break my heart in two.

And I was like, what a poem! I don't mean to sound mellow or something, but it felt like reading someone's struggling after a horrible break-up, fighting one broken heart, and trying to feel fine when she's not. On her mind, she thinks she has moved on, while in fact she's not, just yet. Excepts and buts are sort of instruments to legitimate her feeling towards all of this moving-on things. And it got me thinking:

"Don't we sometimes act that way?"

Sometimes we pretend we're good, we try to believe everything's okay, while deep inside our heart there's uncertainty. We are just not really sure about what we feel.

Denial, denial, denial.

I'm not saying that we should give up or something, it is probably more like, why don't we sit back and admit that we are not fine?

Anyway, despite the ugly things, well done, Thompson, for describing how it (most likely) feels...