Stranger in Your Home

Source: flickr

I used to see it in films and read it in books. Looking over your shoulder around at every turn, being insecure, paranoid about the people around you. Perhaps I am not that concerned, or afraid, though I should be. I should be more concerned than I am and perhaps it is my confidence that is seeing me through accidents of disastrous proportions. Why am I coming out of them unnerved and carefree? It is a cause of concern indeed as I see it in the eyes of my loved ones.

What if your home is not home anymore? What if you are living in it like a stranger? What if that means that you should plan to move on. Move on not necessarily to where the grass is greener but where at least you are out of the reach of the hounds. Does such a place exist?

I don’t want to leave my home. My home is leaving me.

It is swallowing me out.