Days in Rochester

The feelings I have that keep festering right at my throat as I am here, now, under the careful watch of my family, that interprets every action in hopes of understanding and relating to me, it a bit difficult to handle at this circumstance. I keep wondering if they know, if they understand, if they can tell and how mortified I would be if they did. I am reminded severely of the terrible consequences of reality, of fact, of what I have done and what I will have to do. The severity of my sin rather concerning to me. I feel doomed to fail and condemned into hell, never to get out, burn throughout eternity in bits, over and over again, entirely. I am ashamed once more and I feel Hades' grip on my ankles tighter and my soul blackened a bit more.

I feel like the mouse that's been cornered. No where to go. The problem is several hundred times bigger than my physical size that overwhelms me physically.

I am reminded once more that, they just can't know, and they can never find out. No one can if I am at all to save my self respect and dignity.

End of Rochester

And I am through all that Rochester has to offer me. I am stifled. Without the possibility of traveling on my own, I feel restricted from participating among the day walkers, also rejected from the society as we know them. There is nothing around where my parents live, and I feel imprisoned to the house, simply because I cannot leave when I desire to do so. It feels like all kinds of my freedom are taken away from me, simply by being here.

Howard's End came to an end and I unfortunately didn't bring extra books with me, and now I am hung out to dry. I am baffled by my light packing for the first time. Why didn't I bring more books? What will I do without my writing utensils, my book list?

Rochester, you suck monkey balls. I miss my S, our apartment, my own bed, our kitchen and the bright Madison, where people mingle with others. The sun that glances at Madison, the ability to walk and take the bus, or bicycle anywhere you wish. The Energy of Madison, the community of smiling faces and the fresh air by the lake.

Missing Madison

In Rochester

Rochester as always is its boring, oppressive, gray self. The landscape reminds me of an industry town in mid 70s.

I've never been able to catch happiness here. I am not particularly sure why, maybe because it's always so gloom here and the sun forgets to pass by on it's way to the south. Perhaps it's the sheer fact that there is a huge Turkish community here, increasing my chances of running into one, and the conservative culture that comes with the statistics is what suffocates me. Perhaps its the fact that there is very little to do, walking around is not appreciated and public transportation simply doesn't exist. Or maybe it's the fact of emotions and feeling like you belong, versus feeling like you don't belong. I've never felt at home, and perhaps it's as simple as that. Why I never felt that Rochester was welcoming towards me is another question to ponder.

At least I have Howard's End to keep me company.

The Last Train to Rochester

Today is the day I leave for Rochester. I will arrive at Rochester early in the morning tomorrow and then go over for Berra's shower. Yep, they are the same day. I am planning on staying for one week, though I might just end up coming back earlier or perhaps later.

It feels awkward to be leaving S behind, like I am leaving the warmth of my heart here, in Madison. The further this gets, the more difficult it is going to be for me. My mom in Rochester and S back here. I am going to be terribly divided between the loves of my heart.

I had never felt this way when I was leaving M behind. I guess this is what makes this relationship so different and unique then my previous ones. Everything ends and begins again with S. His own personality and the value he attributes to me. The sheer willingness he possess to make things work and his way of showing his emotions, emphatically, affectionately without reserves, limitations or restraints. Free and deep. It's like a cloak I like to wear at all times. His love has become my second skin, I can't seem to do without.

The last time I went to Rochester it was with S and IL, which was an adventure by itself, different than my travelings before. This time it feels hollow to be traveling by myself--something I've done dozens of times. It feels lonely, for the first time. Time just won't go by.

Getting on that bus, I was a slushy, teary mess. It felt like I was leaving him for eternity, that's how long the upcoming weeks felt like to me.

Adiue, Rochester

I can't say that I am sorry to leave you, Rochester. It was not enough face time, long chats of therapeutic talks with my mom, whose generous kindness is always in season and in infinite amount. It wasn't enough to see my grandmother and taste her excellent home made food.


Though we did come here to do what we intended to do and considering how superb everything went, I have not a single complaint to make. You were awesome this time around. Though, still, I find myself excited to go back home, home to Madison and celebrate our engagement to the fullest.

Rochester, Again.

Hello Rochester, it's you again. This time, I've brought someone with me. Someone I deeply care about, to tie the first, red knot of commitment in front of my family.

Welcome us, help us and bring us ease, happiness and lots of love. This time, for the first time perhaps, I am excited to be here. Be kind to us and shower us with good fortune.

Maybe, Rochester?

There are many wonderful skills and all kinds of things people learn by living away from their parents. Its the first introduction to the adult world, responsibilities and the time where many late teens, young adults face consequences and learn on their own to navigate through the world of realities that different social classes, race, gender, religion has constructed over the decades of historical, social, governmental policies enacted, later supported by media and what not.

The downside is that we don't have access to that parental love, acceptance, warmth, understanding and tolerance. This is especially true for me, considering that my mother is my world and that I come from a very affectionate family where words of endearment, kisses, hugs, cuddles are of the norm, almost on a daily, if not strictly. And no matter how much I love my own space, my own time and individuality and the ability to stand on my own (at least my very best efforts to) is priceless to me, though whenever I stay too far away for too long from hugs, kisses and words of endearment I begin to show symptoms of withdrawal. I am not saying that it is a drug and that it has dependency issues (perhaps it does, and requires a thin balance that needs to be maintained at all times) it's not actually like drug dependency.

So, we have decided to go to Rochester sometime in January to see my family. S will come with me to visit, meet the rest of my family and well, make this official. Here's to good food, a loving family and an adoring boyfriend.