Anticipating Madison

I know I shouldn't. I really do, but I can't help it. Tomorrow, I am leaving for Madison, that means I won't get there until the day after tomorrow. But that's okay, I am desperately excited, nervous and so tremendously happy to be going back home. Home to S, to his eyes that seems to be smiling at me, his sweet, sweet lips, his warm embrace and the beautiful soul he possess. To Madison that smells of happiness and all that sappy crap that I keep holding onto in my dreams.

My relationship with my mother here has been rocky, most likely underlining several causes that begins with me and several with her. There is now more than ever before holding me tightly in Madison, and the fact that my discoveries in the last month has led me to be so secretive, guarded, sad and being out of my mind, in the midst of this depression and being my usual delusional self has not made things any easier. Oh, me crying for no reason and any reason at all, all hours of the day has also made everyone, including me rather uncomfortable. It definitely hasn't done anyone any good. It further has hurt my mom and have saddened her that she thinks this is entirely her fault. For that, I am sorry. But there is definitely something going on with my mom that it is also effecting her. I am just not sure what that is. I have guesses, but I am not going to go on about those on here, because well, it's just not appropriate to intrude in her own, private and very necessary life.

Without any additional books, not being able to access the outside world, having limited means of transportation and the world, being without S has dampened everything and not in a sexy way.

But, I can't help it. Even with the distance, the disappointments and the lack of connection I was able to receive this time around, I still love my mother very deeply. And still, I can't help being so excited and extremely happy about returning home to my one and only S.

Awaiting to board the Train to Chicago

:(

S, I miss you. Very much. I miss sleeping on the same bed with you. I miss the way you greet me as you enter through the door, at the end of a day, everyday, with the same enthusiasm, unchanging. You're the one constant good thing in my life that never fails to deliver. A daily dose from you and, life is everything there can be, should be.

I miss the scent of your tobacco that mixes in effortlessly with your cologne. I like the scruffy beard you have. I like the way you hold on to me as we sleep at night and how you say good morning, every morning, without a hitch.

I like seeing your brown eyes that are such a different color that it's hard for me to describe. Looking at them are like looking at the eyes of an innocent child, who is so precocious and excited to experiment. Still, untainted and wholly sincere, with his whole heart open to bear everything, never having the reason to mistrust anyone ever.

I like how you play around, goof off, to the end, even when you know you've gotten me upset. But you know, each time, how to be forgiven.

Burgazada

Yesterday night seemed be a circus of dreams. Never ending merry go around that ended up making nauseous. Out of all that mumbo jumbo, weird world, aliens, pickles and sheep, lots of running around and somehow a huge gun (no idea where that even came from) I saw one single dream that actually made sense.

I think I've grown homesick since the years I've last visited Turkey. That was in 2007, so long ago. Although I did not depart with the most sincere and warmest of feelings at the time, after a while the anger fades away and the way I've shamed myself eventually faded out of memories as well. Others piled onto that, so no one cares anymore.

I've realized how much I've missed Burgazada. The sound and the smell of the waves. The rich green surrounded by the blue. I like the amicable crash of the two colors. Both warming, inviting and cool, waiting to be admired. The sun, the freedom of youth I associate with the island and the etching of the memories left from so long ago. I don't think I can ever remember the islands with anything negative. I wish never to be corrected on this. I want it to stay as it is in my memories, no matter how selfish and impossible that sounds. I know it won't, but I would at least like the ability to reminiscence about the islands in that loving, longing and happy way. It's that piece of solace that I can always look forward to.

Cheers to Burgazda and all of its wild children

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.