Dear Ada:

You wrote, “Sam, on the other hand, is much more keen on keeping in close contact with his friends. He has two male friends that he constantly messages on a daily basis… He moved to the US when he was 10 years old from Europe… They met in college… Soon out of college, he lived with Sarah and her roommates.”-

Reading that, I found myself wondering—what was life like for Sam in those early years? Moving countries at age 10, straddling cultures, possibly feeling othered… I imagine he might have felt quite alone. People who’ve known isolation early in life often carry a deep hunger—not just for connection, but for the kind that feels immersive, unconditional, and safe.

College, then, may have marked a turning point for him—a time when he finally felt chosen. And Sarah, present at that exact crossroads, might have come to symbolize emotional safety in a way that’s difficult to untangle, even now.

I say this not to diminish your pain, but to suggest that his closeness to Sarah may be about reliving and reclaiming the belonging he longed for in adolescence. I know that kind of hunger. I grew up lonely, and even decades later, I sometimes interact with others as if we’re all kids again—trying to create the friendships I never had. That hunger, capital-H Hunger, still lives in me. It’s a craving to feel chosen. To belong.

Even the moment you described—Sam accompanying Sarah during her abortion—while deeply painful for you, may have felt to him like an act of friendship at its most loyal, a way to be present for someone in pain—the way he might have wished someone had been present for him.

“HIM: My friendship with Sarah is important to me, but not as important as ours.”-

That line reminds me of a socially hungry teenager trying to balance loyalty and expansion—wanting to pour himself into a romantic connection, but struggling to cap the emotional outpouring elsewhere. The need to belong can be so expansive, it doesn’t always segment neatly.

Still—this doesn’t mean your boundaries aren’t valid. It only suggests Sam may be operating from a different emotional map.

What do you think, Ada?

With care, Anita 🤍

Hi Peter:

I want to reply more thoroughly in the morning, but for now (after reading only a bit of what you wrote):

If the ache is a whisper… what is it trying to say to you?

What is it trying to say to me?

I think that my ache says: “I didn’t disappear completely and I am reappearing now, every day!”

And that’s.. a Life Worth Living (the title of my thread): a reappearing act.

That blotch on the canvas is taking on shape and bright colors.

The lyric—“That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight, losing my religion”, comes to mind.. 😊

Anita

Hi Confusedasf:

Reading your words, I feel a lot of respect for the way you’re showing up in your life right now. You’re working through heartbreak, job stress, anxiety—and still trying to grow and care for yourself. That takes strength, even when it feels messy.

The way you described missing him—“as easy as breathing”—was so tender. That kind of love doesn’t disappear overnight, and letting go doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. I think you captured that beautifully: what you had was real, even if neither of you was ready to hold it fully.

I also want to say, the fact that you’re challenging yourself not to reach out, planning a solo trip, and being honest about how hard it is—that’s healing in motion. Not perfect or instant, but movement.

Your self-awareness is powerful. The push-pull, the fear of relapsing, the ache of not knowing what’s next—I hear all of it. And I believe that even while you feel unsure, you’re building something sturdier within.

When the time feels right for you—whether to reach out or to close the chapter—you’ll do it with clarity. Until then, it’s okay to feel wobbly. You’re already growing.

Sending warmth and trust in your process, Anita 🤍

Dear Zenith:

I’m glad your present-moment anxiety feels more manageable than the weight of the future—and how beautiful that you and your mum share that kind of mutual care. It’s not always easy to feel seen in our efforts, but hearing she says you take good care of her… that matters.

if you’re ever unsure whether you’re doing enough, maybe that reflection from her is proof: you’re already giving what your heart knows how to give. 🤍

Anita

I am sorry you are having a difficult time, q. I’ll be back to you at the end of the day.

Hi Peter, Thanks so much for your message. I agree with you that both perspectives are important: the personal healing and the deeper spiritual connection. One helps us work through our pain, and the other reminds us we’re all part of something greater.

It’s comforting for me to think-feel-that something greater. It feels lovely to think of it, to connect to it.. and then I forget.

“Somewhere I Belong”– Linkin Park: “(When this began) I had nothing to say- And I’d get lost in the nothingness inside of me
(I was confused)… Just stuck, hollow and alone… I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along- Somewhere I belong…I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real- I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along- Somewhere I belong”-

I believe you’ve know that nothingness-inside, that hollow and alone experience (I’ve known SO MUCH of it), haven’t you, Peter?

Do you feel that you now belong to this something-greater, that you are, really a part of it?

And does it make you less needy of human interactions?

It’s totally okay, of course, if you don’t answer these questions. You don’t owe me answers.

For me, the more I heal, the more I need human interactions. It’s a hunger. There’s no substitute.

🤍 Anita

Dear Zenith:

I really felt what you shared. Wanting to be a baby again, just cared for and free from emotional struggles. It makes sense that being in India, surrounded by memories and familiar places, would stir that kind of nostalgia.

It reminded me of your trip to India last year. This is what you posted back then:

July 17, 2024: “I am still in India and will be back on July 26th. Its going good so far.”

July 29: “I am back to US. I feel so homesick right now… It was good and relaxing. I miss my family (MOM & AUNT). My mom treated me like a kid again by cooking my favorite dishes for me, doing laundry and many other things. I miss her the most. I kinda feel lonely here.”

July 30: “So I am worried about if I should settle here or go back to India and take care of my parents. How will I survive this anxiety when i get old?”

August 1, 2024: “I am feeling bit better now” (no mention of nostalgia or being homesick)

See the similarities between what you shared back then and what you shared a year after? Seems like last year you felt homesick for only a few days..?

Going back home reminded you of who you were before life got complicated. It’s okay to wish for that simplicity again. And it’s okay to have all the comforts here in the U.S. and still feel something missing.

Sometimes when we miss the simplicity of childhood, it’s not just the comfort we miss—it’s how light things felt. No heavy thoughts. No pressure. Just being.

Maybe you can bring a little more simplicity into your life now. Not by changing everything around you, but maybe by softening the way you think or treat yourself. Like letting go of overthinking, being kinder to yourself. Maybe this nostalgia is your heart’s way of asking: What could feel simpler right now?

Sending gentle thoughts as you move through this tender feeling. 🤍

Anita