When she climbed rooftops to catch sunsets and was afraid to climb back down, she felt unheard.

When she smelled the grass and cried a tear, because she felt alive, she felt unseen.

When he looked at her and said „You‘re too big for this old town“, she felt like she has not arrived.

When she jumped into the sea, swimming farther out than usual, crossing algae-growing seabeds engulfed by stones, where waves kept crashing, crying happy-tears, or maybe sad-ones?, feeling grateful to be alive, she felt incapable.

When the horizon was so flat, she questioned everything she knew about life on earth, she felt ignorant.

When he gazed at her one time, or plenty other times?, she felt like he never even knew her, imagining him asking himself „Is she mentally present or someplace else?“, she felt unloved.

When she stood outside his building, wondering whether she should stay or go, feeling paralyzed and out of her body, no control or command, knowing he would let her leave, as he did so often, she felt unworthy.

Is homestead there, where she is not?

If you could, would you?