Yep, I am once again in the place where I grew up, and only 26 hours and 14 minutes into my return, I've already had to become a damn mediator over my brother and my mother. I JUST finished arguing with my mother over what she did wrong; of which she heard zilch (not surprising, this is the fourth time I've told her the same shit)... next time I'm just going to tell her get out of my room and save myself from some stress-induced heart failure.
I see my friends and how their relationships with their parents are, and I really envy them. They seem so close and they smile when they talk or think of each other. They actually have conversations to each other when they're on the phone. Nothing would make me happier than being able to actually have a serious talk or discussion with my mother without her complaining about something or yelling about something... I want to talk to my pre-cancer mother; the strong woman who actually believed that she could do anything, and then do it... it saddens me to think that I'll never see her again.
This shit has just made me think about what home really is. Since I returned for my sophomore year of college, I've dreaded the idea of coming back here. There really is no happiness within these doors for me. The closest thing I can get to happiness is apathy, but even that is tainted by the fear that something will go down, or someone will start something. I was supposed to go down to the basement and start working out and dancing.. but I just can't, I'm so angry and stressed, and I don't want to associate those feelings with hip-hop or my dancing.
It's all just made me realize that where I am right now isn't really my home (note that I never referred to it as "home"). Someone said before that you'll always have a home with your family. yeah, bullshit. My "family" has tried kicking me out on more than one occasion. I believe that home is where you are the happiest. I guess that means my current home is in Urbana. That means that my friends are my family and my house is in my dorm.