a fugitive too dull to flee;

I feel a little bit more grounded since my last entry, which was written while I sleepless and heartbroken, hence  the rambling quality of it.

I went down to visit my parents most of June. For almost 2 weeks, I stayed in my old bedroom or my kid brother’s room. Every day I had to go to class or turn in papers for my job. I also applied to two different other ones (neither of them hired me). I’d board the bus and be gone for most of the day. My friend Ky also came and picked me up a couple of days for worship and girl talk. My old friend B came and got me and treated me to a movie. My old congregation hugged me and asked me about my life and told me how much they missed me. The kids came out of their rooms and spent time with me– even my sister with Asperger’s.

"We’re happy to see you!" 

"We miss you!"

"We love you!" 

My youngest three siblings– a trio of girls 10, 8 and 7 years of age– would spill into the house from playing outside and wrap their tiny arms and legs around me, begging me to move back in. They’d also come and tackle me and smother me with kisses. 

Even my parents have been more open and loving lately too. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." <– this is true.

I went back to the country with a heavy heart. It took me everything not to cry when my dad kissed me on my cheek on his way out of my back door. His stubble was scratchy on my face.

"Take care of yourself out here. Call me or your mum if you need anything at all." 

I’ve been back at the villa since the top of the month. My room mate and I get along better than we have been. We are still worried and overextended but the situation doesn’t have us as tense as we usually are. I’m out preaching every other morning, and out at work most of my afternoons. Her and I see each other late at night for about an hour. She picks me up from the group home at midnight so I don’t have to walk back home in the starlit darkness. For 45 minutes or so we’ll read the Bible together and eat a light dinner, and also have girl talk. I"ll go to bed around 1am, and won’t see her in the morning unless I’m going out preaching. Even then, we’re both walking out of the door. It’s better this way. There’s fewer opportunities for me to upset her. The house is always clean now, even when I’m not there, and this pleases her.

 I think she can sense that my heart is closed to her now, because  now she goes out of her way for me to the point of excess. It’s almost like it’s "forgive me", "trust me again", "tell me your secrets". This makes me feel a sense of nervousness, and I pray everyday to say and do the right things so I don’t alienate her. I still don’t feel emotionally safe there, but that’s how I feel pretty much everywhere.

The new job is messy, loud and physical. Six mentally and physically handicapped women live in this group home. There are two girls on shift, sometimes there. Me and my partner for that day prepare meals, keep our consumers from hurting themselves, administer medication, bathe them and put them to bed. Diapers are changed through the night every two hours. It’s an emotionally exhausting place. The pay is also incredibly low, especially for how much poop and expletives we have to deal with. The hours shift constantly. However, it’s close to the house, so it’ll have to do until I can get something better.

Every afternoon, I walk to work, sign in and prepare for battle. 

I’ve decided that after I fix my car and pay off most of my debts, I’m moving out of the area. Perhaps it’ll be northern Michigan, but I’m also seriously considering Chicago or Portland. I just want to sell everything I own and go on the road for a little while. The group home is the last place I ever want to report to for work. I want to work from home from now on, and am looking to becoming a virtual assistant/ affiliate marketer. I also plan on learning sign language. 

Progress has been slow but steady. I’m hoping that I can keep it up.