Why I Resist Home

I resist going home.
I resist being home to someone too.

I resist the very idea of home lately.
"Why, though?", I thought.

"Home is not a place but a form of love. It's hard to resist love, ain't it?"
"Why still?", I thought.

"Maybe because 'going home' comes with a pain of 'coming back', and 'loving them' comes with a pain of 'leaving them' with the uncertainty of 'not knowing when we'll meet again; whether we'll meet again'.

Loving, comes with the pain of letting go.
While the heart's become accustommed to loving, it is still painful while learning to let go, every single time I return from there. Perhaps, that's why", I thought.