September 2, 2001
Non-home away from Home
I'm quasi-miserable.
Not entirely miserable, seeing as I'm not comfortable enough to break down and cry. And I don't feel like going to the scheduled activities tonight (though I probably will) and I don't feel like leaving my door open (though it is) and I don't feel like being here (though I am).
I really don't feel prepared right now. I'm fighting sadness. I mean, I'm cut off from everything and everyone. And Ryan leaves in ten days and I won't see him again until Christmas. And who is to say things will be the same then? They won't. I can say that now. 'Cause things aren't already. I'm alone and everybody seems to think this is okay. Like it's okay that I couldn't sleep last night on a strange mattress with bastard drunkards screaming outside my window. Like it's okay that I keep having shallow conversations with people I don't relate to because they happen to be standing there.
How many times can I ask someone their major, their home town, their residence hall?
I'm not going to say that I want to go home. Because I wanted this experience. I just want to be able to call this home. And right now, it doesn't seem like it ever will be.
* * * * * * * * *
Okay. This is later, approximately two hours so.
Talked to Mom and Dad on the phone and couldn't stop crying. Dad says flat out 'Do you want to come home?' I beg him to not give me that option. But he already has. He tells me there is no shame in it, that they can't have me over here crying everynight. He says he will come and get me tomorrow if I want him to.
I don't know what I want. Maybe I'm not as worldly as I'd like to think. This is so hard. I am 200 miles from home. I don't know anyone. No one really cares to know me. I want to stick it out, but if in two weeks I still hate it here I'll go home. Dayton and UC have good journalism schools, I can go to one of those. Right now, I think this is just too far.
But I will try to stay. I don't really want to, but I owe it to myself.
astera at 7:04 p.m.