Forbidden Comfort.

I always miss my old friends, lifestyle, and who I was back then, that's nothing new. I've realized though, that it's not until for a minute, or thousands of them, that I lose all connection with the feeling or memory I molded of what's left that I start to go insane. I lose control of my thoughts, and I search and search for any way to connect again to "home" so that I can breathe again. They say home is where the heart is, but why is home so dangerous for me?