(which is probably why i still sleep with my teddy bear and won't let my mom bury my dead dog's ashes in the backyard in case we move and have to leave him behind)

i've been making excuses for not telling my mom what has been on my mind for the past three months - along the lines of, if she knows that i am not happy, she won't be able to handle me being so far away anymore (i am a much loved only child).

yesterday i spent two and a half hours on the phone with her, and not all of it, but some of it came out. she said, wise woman, it just doesn't seem like you are excited about your life or what you're doing, and at twenty three, you should definitely be excited about your life.

now i know why i didn't want to talk to her about it. she knows me, and when i'm faking (which is probably why she was so skeptical when i swore up and down that i am not smoking over here). and it's not like i can argue with her, not that i want to. there are certainly no grounds for an argument that i am excited about doing the. most. boring. m.a. ever/being semi-unemployed for over a year now with no chances of real employment because i don't have a work visa/am not a german native speaker. --- to bore you with some details.

i guess it just feels like ever since i've realized that i need to be living and living for me that what i am doing here is a slow process of goodbye.