The thing I hate most about travel is all the time it gives me to brood. Heart was a little fluttery on the flight -- probably just vagus nerve bullshit, but it got me thinking about death and loss.

I've had enough loss this year, dammit. I'm tired of everything feeling poignant and fraught all the time. I'm tired of feeling for the first time in 20 years like I'm totally adrift, with very few really close friends who will still bother to seek me out, and no safety net whatsoever if I fuck something up.

I'm tired of questioning myself and my basic decency every day. I'm tired of facing down a lifetime of precarity, where if I lose Peg I lose everything. I'm tired of thinking about the inevitability of losing my mom. I'm tired of simultaneously missing Kristy and Jessie *and* looking forward to never dealing with them and their aloofness again. I'm tired of knowing that when I go, most people probably won't much notice or care, in a place where I could have sworn I had tons of friends and a community the last time I looked.

I'm just tired. I'm glad I'm heading home, because I really needed this break. I wish I felt like I had *some* semblance of a home that didn't feel like it was slowly dwindling into nothing. I wish Rik and I hung out more. I wish I saw my remaining sisters, like, ever. I wish Seattle could ever feel like home again. I wish I could ever hope to have two people to cuddle in bed at once again. Most of all, I wish I could get a real hug right about now.

Thanks for listening, if anybody did. I'm sorry I didn't do better. I'll be okay.