A Home I Haven’t Found Yet
It’s past midnight, and I’m still here, sitting at the same alfresco convenience store near Galleria.
People come and go. Cars pass. Lights flicker against the pavement. The city keeps moving, almost as if it has somewhere to be.
And somehow, I feel stuck.
I’ve tried distracting myself. I’ve talked to friends, walked around Ortigas, kept myself busy with anything that could keep my mind occupied. But whenever everything gets quiet, the sadness always finds its way back.
I miss being held.
I miss having someone to run to when I’m sad. Someone who would sit beside me without needing to fix anything. Someone who would hold me tightly and, for a moment, make the weight of everything feel a little lighter.
Maybe that’s why I don’t want to go home yet.
Because sometimes, home is just a place.
And what I really want is someone who feels like home.
Get alexgcspace’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
I’m 27, and lately, it feels like everyone else is moving forward while I’m still trying to figure out where I’m supposed to go.
I’m supposed to have my own house by now. Move out. Build a stable career. Earn more. Maybe even find someone to build a life with.
Everyone seems to be arriving somewhere.
And I’m still here.
Still walking the same streets. Still sitting in the same places. Still wondering when life will finally start feeling like mine.
The city keeps moving around me, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m falling behind.
Maybe that’s what hurts the most.
Not being alone for a night, but realizing how badly I want someone to notice that I am.
So I’m still sitting here.
It’s getting late.
The city is slowly becoming quieter.
And somehow, I still don’t want to go home.
