In the week I go to school and I live in the city. My life, especially the last few months has been so busy that I don’t see my parents enough and I don’ t go home often. But whenever I do go home, it feels like therapy: mama’s love and away from the city.
Especially the last week has been hard. I got a boyfriend and then I broke up with him again. He loves me so much but I can’t love him at the same level. We’re so different and want different things in life. Now it’s all fun and games but what in a few months? So I broke up with him. It’s also hard for me, because I will be alone again. But then again: is it him I want or is it company I want?
So I came home this weekend. My mama cooked for me. We talked. We did laundry together and she gave me hugs. She made me feel so little again, like I wanted to crawl in her lap and stay there forever. Coming home is therapy. We have a garden I can sit in. It’s quiet and green. My mama cooks delicious food I can’t cook but love to eat. And the important part: we talk endlessly. On Sunday-evening I have to go back to the city. Sometimes I’m ready for it, sometimes I wish the weekend was a day longer. At most times I feel like my batteries are recharged. Then I’m ready for another week full of ‘must-do’s’ in the city. I love weekends like that.
Right now I feel so shit with the whole break-up thing. I’ve never made someone cry like that. And it’s all down to me. I broke his heart. But I broke mine too. In those times a hug from mama is the best you can get. An ‘I love you’ here and a cup of tea there. That’s all you need. I think this will be one of those weekends that I wished to be longer. But I’m a grown-up now. I can’t hide here, home, forever. But, I’m happy to know I have a place and a person I can go home to.