Homesick Blues

I don't even know what the words mean anymore.
 Homesick
The leaves are down and the cold huddle is on.  The ground crunches underfoot everywhere you go so it is impossible to sneak away.  The birds seem to be screaming at each other on these cold November mornings. Through naked trees they can see one another's secrets.
No one can see mine because I have made myself invisible again.  It has become so easy to do that I forget I am hiding in plain sight.
Sometimes I go too long without looking in a mirror for lack of a reflection.
Homesick has become the feeling in my chest when I try to remember what once was in my heart.
I miss huge palms and fingers wrapping across the back of my neck.  Just a squeeze and shake from side to side to remind me of his love.  Circles of smoke interlacing my fingers and coffee between us like old friends.  I thought not talking to him would make it better, make me heal.  He doesn't agree.
What do I say to a memory?
Come Home.