When we get feelings, we can usually pinpoint "where" we feel them. Our thoughts fall back to a past sadness, and our heart pangs. Physically or psychosomatic or as if it were a sense like any other, like smell- we somehow just feel it. We remember a regret and there's a tug deep in our gut. Suddenly a solution, an idea comes to us, and the hairs on our scalp perk up. As it dawns on us that we've made a mistake, we exhale and a sinking feeling spreads throughout our chest cavity.
The one feeling that I can't pinpoint is so instinctual, I can't even describe it. It seems at once pervasive throughout my whole being and yet so deeply ingrained in me that it's practically not there at all, just with me. Every warmblooded being has it, in some form or another. I think it's the first feeling I ever had: the feeling of wanting your mom. That feeling of, regardless of your actual mother, just wanting to be mothered.
This feeling isn't like the others, in that it doesn't come to me, it doesn't appear, slowly creeping up on me or seizing me all at once. It's as if it's just always there, and at moments I simply become aware of it.
Sometimes I think this feeling is very close to the feeling of wanting to go home. Not necessarily to a specific physical spot- I don't think I need to describe it, you know what I'm referring to. It's tough when these feelings reveal themselves because they're married with the knowledge that they're unfulfillable. I will never get to satisfy either need, not the way I've known them. I turn around to trace my footsteps back, only to find they've been swept away. I've been feeling, for lack of a better word, dispossessed lately. But perhaps, with a different perspective, that can signal a starting point? A starting point for what, I'm not sure yet.