Walking Away From Home

I don't know what to do about the temple lately.

It started the first weekend of April. Friday afternoon before conference, I went up to Salt Lake with a bunch of friends to attend a session in the Salt Lake Temple, which was lovely. I hadn't been to the Salt Lake Temple since the very first time I went through, back in November 2015, so the memories were coming back strong in the best way possible.

And it was such a lovely session, and being in the celestial room with some of my favourite people in the world was incredible. I was feeling all sorts of things.

But then we had to leave. And walking out of that celestial room was almost physically painful to me. Every step away was a deep sorrow in my soul, this feeling like I was leaving something so important behind me and I wasn't going to be back for a very long time.

It was an odd feeling, and a stark contrast to the sense of home and peace and light I feel in the temple.

I... did not love it.

But I didn't dwell too much on it because then it was conference weekend and we were on Temple Square for general conference and it was so wonderful and I was so glad to be there.

But then the next time I went to the temple, it happened again. And it's been happening ever since.

This feeling has almost made me not want to go to the temple, because I don't want to feel so terrible when I leave.

It doesn't seem to matter how frequently I go. Even if I'm there weekly, I break when I leave. I try to go often, because as I said, the temple feels like home and it's light and love and peace for me. But I can't convince the feeling in my chest that I'm coming back, no matter how regularly I go.

It varies in intensity. It's worst when I'm alone. When I have a friend there, they can distract me from the pain of walking away from home again. About two months ago, I was telling my friend Maz about it, after we'd been to the temple together, struggling to explain this void that opens up in me and the way that it hurts to leave the temple.

"Sounds like there's a question you need to be asking, Rose," he said, "What is it?"

"I wish I knew..."

I've been thinking about that a lot.

About what it is that I should be asking. What I need to take to the temple to walk away without feeling like my heart is breaking, my soul is cracking open, like I'm leaving something critical behind me and I'm never coming back.

I'm not sure.

But I felt it again this week when I was there with Gyb.

And it hurts.