There's something in me and I need to get it out. Its that lurking feeling right behind your eyes and sitting on the top of your heart. You want to cry, but your sadness isn't defined enough to merit the loss of bodily fluid.
We watched the 2003 Peter Pan last night and it's been slowly ripping my heart out. For as long as I can remember that story has been a part of my life, and every time I encounter it I ache a little at the end. However the story teller chooses to end it there is always the contrast - Wendy will grow up; Peter will not. They have to choose Neverland or Home. It's one or the other. At the end last night it shows Peter with Tinkerbell looking in the window at the other children and the newly adopted Lost Boys being smothered in love by parents who thought their children were gone. The narrator says "Peter Pan, the boy who has countless joys that other children will never know, was looking in on the one joy that he could never have - family."
For whatever reason, I think that's what I'm feeling right now. I feel the sadness of leaving, the joy of returning; the tension of one or the other. The fact that it feels like no matter what you do there is something missing. Whatever you do, it means there's something you're not doing. I hope tears come to wash out this aching.