In Ukraine I missed people- friends and family, even the familiar faces of people around town that I didn't necessarily know. I missed the familiarity of home. I missed spice, diversity, art, movies, going to the Park of Roses and reading on a blanket, affection, kayaking- the list could go on. The only good thing about this particular situation was that I knew, more or less, what I was getting myself into. (Okay, rabid dogs, frozen bodies, and rogue ears not included.) So mentally and emotionally I was as prepared as I could be for this missing.
What I didn't expect was all the things I would miss once I got home. I guess I mistakenly equivocated missing with not being home. But, then again, I suppose home is an elusive idea for me. I miss Ukraine, but it's not the overwhelming missing feeling that I feel towards other unexpected things. I really miss having a sanctuary all my own. Yeah, I have that personal sanctuary inside, but physically, I don't have a place to call mine. This bothers me a lot. I've been on my own for almost 8 years, and now I live with mom. Shit. It could be worse, yes. But, I can't listen to my music at my volume, can't cook what I want, how I want, walk from the bathroom naked, have an intense painting night and leave things out for tomorrow...Again, this list could go on. Anyone who knows me knows that I am an extremely independent person and that intensified, for better or worse, living alone in Ukraine.
I miss knowing where I'm going. I miss knowing where to go. I miss having someone to go with. I miss live music. I miss wine nights with good friends. I miss feeling productive and like I'm contributing something positive to society. I miss not owning a TV and reading (yes, this is my own American weakness).
When will this missing end? I hope I haven't set myself up for a life of missing things. That's no way to live.