How am I to know the answer to that question? I had no idea that this was not the way it was supposed to be. Noise. Chaos. Sirens. The sounds of dishes crashing against the wall. Voices. Loud voices on the other side of the door. Screaming. And then, the uneasy quiet. This was normal. I had no idea anything was missing. Reality was everywhere.
I know now. It is simple. Peace was missing. It was completely absent from my reality. My existence was to survive and protect -- even as I lay unprotected. Homelessness is not only a state of existence without a shelter. I was homeless for most of my life. Until I made my own home.
That desire for peace and home spurned an all-out effort to create peace and home. At the expense of honesty and integrity I built a home and created peace for myself and those with me. Even as I traveled into the world's fire, I had roots. Even as I wandered into my own darkness, I had a place of peace. Of course, it became a facade, but it was my facade. And I had what I was missing. Peace. Home. Safety.
It's gone now. All of it. I am scrambling again but now I have no one else to blame but myself. I blew out the windows and the doors of my peaceful home and it has not survived despite my exhausting efforts.
I found what I had been missing. It was a sacred gift to this homeless and frightened little boy. And I blew it up. I allowed my trauma to thwart my life. It is my fault.
What was missing is now missing again.