Suffocating in Security

Five years have passed since I built this house.

Back when I built it, I thought that with this,
all my dreams would finally come true.

Having a place to return to,
cooking meals in the same place,
spending the same time together.

I thought that was what happiness was.

But now, I find myself wanting to let go of this house.

I have no complaints.

Even so, it is painful.

Returning to the same place,
seeing the same scenery,
repeating the same things.

In these days that should be comforting,
my breathing is gradually becoming shallower.

“It’s a blessing to have a place to return to, isn’t it?”

Words I’ve heard many times.

They are probably not wrong.

But it had become exhausting
to keep forcing myself to fit into those words.

A small room visible from the entrance.

The place I am planning to turn into a salon.

The air feels different only in that spot.

Even though there is nothing there yet,
when I stand here, my breathing deepens.

Even though it is the same place,
it is not the same.

Perhaps I was never suited
to staying in one place.

Like a hermit crab,
choosing a place that suits who I am at that moment,
and gradually moving on.

That way of living
feels more right to me.

I haven’t decided what to do with this house yet.

But,

I have stopped convincing myself that “as long as I am here, I will be fine.”

I will have a base.
But I will not be bound by it.

I will return when I need to,
and head back out again.

If meaning is born in this place, I will stay, and if
I find I cannot breathe, I will let it go.

I think that is enough.

“It is a blessing to have a place to return to.”

I don’t want to deny those words.

It is just that I
did not fit within them.

—Afterword—

Sometimes, impulsively,

there are moments when I want to destroy
the peace and stability I currently have.

Why I think that way
is something I don’t even understand myself.

Sometimes that side of myself
scares me.

I wonder if I will be lonely for the rest of my life.