that girl

Sometimes, you just want to go home.

I'm tired of always thinking about and working on serious, depressing things. I'm really tired of HIV. I'm tired of having to be grown-up, when clearly, on the inside, I'm not. I know there is a way to be submersed in all this stuff and not have it tinge the essence of who you are, but I'm finding it hard to keep my borders lately. I know this post seems to contradict what I just wrote in the last one, but - both are true. A sexually-transmitted disease, that's not something a mere child - like me - talks about. Kids should be innocent, protected.

What I'm really saying is that I want to hide away.

You have to live in reality though. Don't you?

(Do you?)

My parents are coming to visit in February, I hope. It will have been two years since I've seen any member of my family. I could really use a week curled up on their couch, in front of their gas fireplace, with an afghan pulled over me, with my sister singing to herself in the basement and my mom reading in the recliner, and my dad chuckling as he half-watches The Andy Griffith Show in the bedroom while sorting paperwork on the bed. I could use bland, simple pork chops and green beans for dinner, and afterward, a glass of vanilla ice-cream with milk poured on top.

I really wanna go home home today.
Just for a while.

After Ginger's bridal shower, a few days before I left for Moz.

Dad and Mom are home from China right now, for a month.
In our house, maybe at this table, at this very minute.

Sigh.