Being away from a family. It's a kind of loneliness that words can't fully capture. At first, it's overwhelming, the empty space where their laughter used to be, the silence where their presence once filled your days. It's terrifying to realise that you're on your own. And no amount of calls or messages can replace the feeling of being home. The crying eventually stops, but the missing never does. You think about them every day, even if you always don't say it. You remember the small things: family dinners, the sound of their voices, the way they got you without needing an explanation. You don't stop missing them, you just get better at carrying it, the ache becomes quieter, but it's always there, reminder of what you have left behind and how much they mean to you. It's okay to feel the weight of it, it's okay to miss them so deeply that it hurts. No matter where you are, you're never truly alone, their love is with you, always. That kind of love doesn't fade with distance...