(no subject)
I miss you, Jersey. Everyone up here is too polite and kind, they hold doors, and they smile more than I'm comfortable with, and when they say 'have a good day' or 'how are you', they actually sound like they mean it, like they want a real answer. I don't know how to deal with this, Jersey. I miss your anger. Your filth. Tomorrow I'll be coming home to you, and I never thought I'd say this, but I'm looking forward to that Welcome to New Jersey sign and the smell of dirty air that accompanies it. I miss my cats, my timba and her head kisses, and my beebs gently touching my face to wake me up and say good morning, and my mickeynose who speaks to me every time I say her name, and my janerz and her big, warm, eyes. I miss my friends. Me and Brett have been sending writing back and forth to each other while I've been here, and when I get back we're going to talk about going to AWP together, a big writer's conference in Colorado. I miss my family. I miss my nephew, I miss sitting on my front porch with him and telling him stories that he loves to listen to. This has been an eye-opening, valuable, important, and overall a fun experience that I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to partake in, I am especially happy that I had the chance to experience this with the man I love so much, but tomorrow we're going home and I'm more than ready.