I’ve always been kinda lax with this word. On trips, it would be our hotel room. When I go dancing, it’s a familiar venue. However, when we pulled up to my house today, it felt like anything but home.
I so dearly wanted to be anywhere than here. But here I was.
So I got out of the car and threw myself in my room. I got myself some food rations so I wouldn’t have to go downstairs in the morning and risk encountering my mother.
Some background on that… Me and my mom have never been on good terms. But even more so now.
When I came home yesterday, we got into an argument. She told me not to come home. So I didn’t. I stayed at my boyfriend’s place.
Today when I apologized for not coming home, she told me, “You might as well move in with him. We have a better relationship if we don’t see each other.”
I prefer it to an argument of yelling and screaming, but still. Those words cut deep.
What was the argument about, you ask? It surely couldn’t have been that bad.
But it was. She doesn’t approve of my boyfriend. And honestly I think it has to do with his race. She thinks I should be dating one of my other guy friends. She doesn’t approve of my decision to change my major either. According to her, I’m just not making any of the right life decisions it seems.
Some people gotta learn to let go.
And I gotta find a way to move out.