Things we lost in the fire

I'm tired and I'm not sure why, maybe because we've been going from one place to other more or less every day for the past month or so. It's not the traveling itself that's tiring but that eery feeling of being on the run from something. I can't put my finger on what it is (a lost childhood?), but it's constantly there like a nagging voice whispering in my ear or the blurred reflection in a dusty mirror.

Tom notices it sometimes when I stop talking and disappear into my thoughts, but I just tell him I'm tired and that I need to rest for a while. Sooner or later I have to talk to him, I'm just not sure what to say.

I wish we could find somewhere to settle down for a while, just a couple of weeks, to regain the energy I've lost. I have family here, but I'm not ready to meet them yet, at least I don't think I am. It would only remind me of my father, of the times I've spent here when I was someone else, and the fact that they are not lost forever. Oh, I have to turn all this around somehow, it's bringing me down.