There’s something to be said for family, for home, for the existence of a place where it all comes together. I’m not quite sure how to assign words to my current state, but nonetheless here I am. There’s a Russian movie called Make It ‘Til Monday that offers the mantra much better than I ever will - the movie asserts, as its overarching theme, that happiness is being understood.

There are, and always will be, those in our lives who offer unmeasurable positivity, intrigue, and sanctity. They provide unparalleled uplift where life has lowered all visible manifestations of hope, and much needed support where circumstance has abandoned any earthly form of buttress. But those qualities alone, despite being integral strands in the tapestry of situations that face us all, fail to form a holistic picture of what is truly required. This diversity of friendship, even in small quantities and regardless of form, provides a valuable (and indeed much needed) element of growth, helping create mutual understanding, tolerance, and stability. But diversity alone rarely suffices, lacking the sort of fundamental comfort that I seem to be devoid of these days.

Family seems to fill this void more and more these days, and as time goes on I find myself growing closer and closer to the people who made me who I am today. With the continuous bewilderment of those around me, I continue to talk to my family several times a day, if only to say hello. Words doubtfully do justice to how truly important this element of my life actually is, but I pale at the thought of life without it.

It is therefore that I find myself in a newfound state for the last several days, missing my parents as they travel around Europe for the first time without me. Despite being the foremost advocate of this vacation (it was much needed and I’m glad they went), I can’t help but feel a bit down. Call it separation anxiety, call it an inability to “cut the cord.” I just call it missing the ones I love.