U-turn

The whole drive back to my apartment, I wished I was on the other side. I hated the road that was taking me away from my town. It took me crossing three state lines before I could even think about the word “home” without bursting into tears. The country station would have been hard to listen to.

I was so glad that I got to spend so much time back home but I fear it was too long of a visit because I got used to being there. I actually forgot how to take care of myself for a good while. I couldn’t decide on what to make for dinner and I didn’t even glance at my Pilates mat. It was worth it though. I got to see my friends and laugh and have a good time.

It seemed like everyone was in town for the Summer so every bar we hopped to was an impromptu high school reunion. I saw some people I was glad to see and those who I thought I’d be happy to see but a minute into our conversation, I realized I made a terrible mistake. How is it that some people can take small talk and morph it into a soapbox? Really? I tell you I’m studying massage therapy and instead of going for the obvious joke you try to lecture me about how it shouldn’t be covered by insurance? Wow, so glad to see you’re doing well too. See kids, that’s what happens when you’re high in public. You become a huge douche.

Since one of the things I want to do for myself is to be honest, I’ve been thinking that this place may be a little too far away from my friends and family. This could just be homesickness speaking and may subside after a week back at school but the drive back was really rough. I listened strictly to standup in fear that if I put my iPod on shuffle, it would pick out only the songs about missing someone or saying goodbye (I have lots of show tunes which emote too much). The day before my departure, I had a hard time saying goodbye to my bestie and I feel so bad for my poor dad. My mother is still back in the Motherland so my dad was alone to send me off. I cried so much on my dad’s shoulder that his shirt was technically in the rinse cycle. It’s so unfair. Every time I pulled myself together, he would say something so nice and dad-like that it killed me.

Hours later, I got back to my apartment. I didn’t make that U-turn thanks to my bestie who talked some sense into me. I was actually nervous when I put the key into the lock. What if I wasn’t glad to be “home?” What would that mean? After I unloaded the car, unpacked, and turned on some company (the TV), I looked around and felt… a little bit of relief. I did just drive a long way and slept badly at a cheap hotel but at least I felt a wave of comfort. This isn’t home but this is where a lot of my stuff is.

I’m sure when I finally get to talk to my mother I’ll crumble to pieces again but until then, I hope I can keep myself together. But it’s back to my routine. School’s starting tomorrow so I need to push forward so I’m not tempted to turn back.