You must be happy to hear that I have been hit with a sudden pang of depression. I just realised that as much as I love coming home, I have to say good bye. Again. Perhaps I am just a softy. But whatever. I love these people. I love them so much that every time I leave I feel like I'm being ripped apart. Can you understand what this feels like?

Do you know what it's like to keep having to say good bye when it kills a part of you inside? These people are the ones that I live with. The people that I've grown with. The people who above all, know me. And yet even amongst them slither in one or two who pretend. Yet they too are important. Those with malcontent are just as important. For it is through them that I shine.

Love is a strange thing. It's a romance that transcends all forms of obstacles. It is a form that embraces and does not judge. It is a bond between families, lovers, friends and even enemies. It is not something that can be explained or justified by human means. Love is you and me and all of the people. Love exists side by side hope. It's there in the brightest morning and the darkest of night when all seems lost.

And that is what's keeping me going. Love.