I've started staying with my boyfriend's family when I go through town. It's been pretty nice because I like his family and of course I love seeing him and spending time with him. Of course, the cuddles at night don't hurt either.
Of course, I came to my parents for Thanksgiving, but I didn't want to do all the driving in one go. On Wednesday I drove halfway and stayed the night. My boyfriend had to work late on Wednesday night, so I just crawled into bed when I normally did and managed to fall asleep before he finished. He tried to call me as usual, but I was so out that I didn't even know that my phone went off. So of course he wakes me up when he gets back, nearly midnight. First thing that happens is that he kisses me. While it wasn't the most restful night, I think that was due to the fact that we were on an air mattress.
I then go have breakfast with my sister and drive to see my parents. Thanksgiving day was lovely, quiet, and full of food. This Black Friday is equally quiet. I love it.
For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God.
-- 1 Peter 1:23
Friday
I wonder if going back home every weekend makes me miss home even more. Even though I'm not really sure what 'home' is anymore. I'm from so many places and I miss so many things that I'm just not sure. I've been going back to one home for quite a few weekends, often multiple in a row, and I'm somewhat happy there. I drag my stays out so late that when I get back to college, I'm about ready to just change into pj's and go to bed.
So I don't know if it's quite healthy for me. I miss home (whatever it may be) to the point that I feel upset when I miss it too much. I want to go back this weekend, but I know I can't. I need to be able to be apart from my home and the things that I miss.
I used to be okay with being away from home. For most of this semester I've been fine. It wasn't until I kept going back that I've been missing these things. When I was younger, the cure was most certainly to go back. But I think I just have to be away. I know that a lot of what I'm missing is a certain someone. I like to think that maybe next year I won't be so home sick. Maybe next year he'll be with me.
I miss my parents, and with Thanksgiving not too far away, I'm getting anxious. I just think about how I have to make it through one more week (ish) and then I'll be there. I don't look forward to the drive, but I know that once I get there it'll be nice.
Never mind the fact that I'm sick and just want to cuddle up and sleep most of my days. There are some things that I just can't do. As much as I try to call where I am now home, it doesn't feel like it. I don't quite like the people anymore, I'm not particularly interested in going out and meeting more. I know I'm ready for college, but I feel like such a shut in. I know I am. It's a bit of a miracle if people see me outside of meal times.
I feel like I'm beginning to fall apart at the seams. I know I can keep myself together, and I've been doing a fabulous job, but I'm afraid that something's going to happen and make me spiral down into a lovely dead end. Not literally, of course. I have far too much keeping me alive.
I've been typing away at my NaNo novel. About 23,000 words so far. I should be halfway before the day is over.
Maybe I'll summarize what happened in my missing months at a later date.
Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you.
-- Proverbs 2:11
So I don't know if it's quite healthy for me. I miss home (whatever it may be) to the point that I feel upset when I miss it too much. I want to go back this weekend, but I know I can't. I need to be able to be apart from my home and the things that I miss.
I used to be okay with being away from home. For most of this semester I've been fine. It wasn't until I kept going back that I've been missing these things. When I was younger, the cure was most certainly to go back. But I think I just have to be away. I know that a lot of what I'm missing is a certain someone. I like to think that maybe next year I won't be so home sick. Maybe next year he'll be with me.
I miss my parents, and with Thanksgiving not too far away, I'm getting anxious. I just think about how I have to make it through one more week (ish) and then I'll be there. I don't look forward to the drive, but I know that once I get there it'll be nice.
Never mind the fact that I'm sick and just want to cuddle up and sleep most of my days. There are some things that I just can't do. As much as I try to call where I am now home, it doesn't feel like it. I don't quite like the people anymore, I'm not particularly interested in going out and meeting more. I know I'm ready for college, but I feel like such a shut in. I know I am. It's a bit of a miracle if people see me outside of meal times.
I feel like I'm beginning to fall apart at the seams. I know I can keep myself together, and I've been doing a fabulous job, but I'm afraid that something's going to happen and make me spiral down into a lovely dead end. Not literally, of course. I have far too much keeping me alive.
I've been typing away at my NaNo novel. About 23,000 words so far. I should be halfway before the day is over.
Maybe I'll summarize what happened in my missing months at a later date.
Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you.
-- Proverbs 2:11
Tuesday
So, today's election day and I haven't posted in a really long time.
But I'm not posting about the election.
Instead I'm procrastinating on hw and NaNo (about 14k right now) and writing about something that came into my head a little bit earlier.
I got this ring a little while ago- sometime early in the semester. It's a very pretty ring, with amethyst and a silver-plated band. I'm quite fond of it, I wear it every day. I wore it when it was far too big and had to have three plastic resizers, and I wear it now even though the copper turns my finger kinda green. I was worried about being questioned about it when I went to see family, but I reflected on the meaning this ring has to me.
It was given to me with conflicting intentions. The first intention was to sway me into considering the person who gave it to me as something more. However, he couldn't say those words and gave it as a sense of apology for everything that went wrong. I knew that he wasn't giving up. I wore it anyway, even though I had decided against him.
Things went downhill fast and I held onto the ring with everything I could. I even bought a reciprocating ring for this guy and gave it to him.
I have taken the ring that I wear as a sign of friendship and togetherness. It's a sign that he will be faithful to me, that he loves me, that he cares. I wear it because it reminds me that I'm not alone. I wear it on my ring finger because I know that the love of a man- this one or another- will hold me close. I will always have someone to love me. Faith that things will work. Fidelity through and through. We both may have issues with that, but we can hopefully survive together.
I gave him a ring in the hopes that he would think some of the same thoughts. I gave it with the thought of letting him know I'll be by his side forever, in whatever position that may be. He wears it on the ring finger because it fits nowhere else. It's my faith and hopes that he wears with that ring.
So now we're together, for about a week. We struggle through a distance that prevents us from seeing each other every day, but we have the hopes of a weekend to bring us together. We have to fight through the loneliness and hope that when we get to see each other like old times, it'll make us stronger.
Some days I hope that I get to experience falling asleep with his arms wrapped around me more regularly. I hope for many things for us. We started as friends and it slowly became apparent that we needed to be together as a true romantic couple. Nothing has changed except for titles. We still act much the same, and feelings haven't changed too much (except I might be a bit more willing to feel them). It's odd how these things have changed, and for once I think I'm happy with a choice I've made.
"'If you can'?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for him who believes." — Mark 9:23
But I'm not posting about the election.
Instead I'm procrastinating on hw and NaNo (about 14k right now) and writing about something that came into my head a little bit earlier.
I got this ring a little while ago- sometime early in the semester. It's a very pretty ring, with amethyst and a silver-plated band. I'm quite fond of it, I wear it every day. I wore it when it was far too big and had to have three plastic resizers, and I wear it now even though the copper turns my finger kinda green. I was worried about being questioned about it when I went to see family, but I reflected on the meaning this ring has to me.
It was given to me with conflicting intentions. The first intention was to sway me into considering the person who gave it to me as something more. However, he couldn't say those words and gave it as a sense of apology for everything that went wrong. I knew that he wasn't giving up. I wore it anyway, even though I had decided against him.
Things went downhill fast and I held onto the ring with everything I could. I even bought a reciprocating ring for this guy and gave it to him.
I have taken the ring that I wear as a sign of friendship and togetherness. It's a sign that he will be faithful to me, that he loves me, that he cares. I wear it because it reminds me that I'm not alone. I wear it on my ring finger because I know that the love of a man- this one or another- will hold me close. I will always have someone to love me. Faith that things will work. Fidelity through and through. We both may have issues with that, but we can hopefully survive together.
I gave him a ring in the hopes that he would think some of the same thoughts. I gave it with the thought of letting him know I'll be by his side forever, in whatever position that may be. He wears it on the ring finger because it fits nowhere else. It's my faith and hopes that he wears with that ring.
So now we're together, for about a week. We struggle through a distance that prevents us from seeing each other every day, but we have the hopes of a weekend to bring us together. We have to fight through the loneliness and hope that when we get to see each other like old times, it'll make us stronger.
Some days I hope that I get to experience falling asleep with his arms wrapped around me more regularly. I hope for many things for us. We started as friends and it slowly became apparent that we needed to be together as a true romantic couple. Nothing has changed except for titles. We still act much the same, and feelings haven't changed too much (except I might be a bit more willing to feel them). It's odd how these things have changed, and for once I think I'm happy with a choice I've made.
"'If you can'?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for him who believes." — Mark 9:23
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