~Myrrhiam

It seems forever ago I left home. Eons and eons seemed to have drifted by. Sometimes at night I dream I am there, and when i wake i am confused in those first few instances before true awareness, my sleepy dream sticky mind refusing to take in the spanish voices in the alley outside, the red roofs across the way... Somehow i have ended up living in Spain, somehow I have a bare walled apartment and books stacked on chairs and a cat called Gat who bites my feet and a man who has work roughened hands black with engine oil.Somehow.
I have a job teaching english to two children for two hours every day, it pays my part of the rent, and leaves money for food. I dream greedily of more work, of money saved in a foreign bank account, amassing for my escape. I miss friends desperately. I have no one here, except friends of the man i live with, and since english is not their native language more often than not i find myself abandoned on a sofa, staring at the ceiling blankly, almost without thought, sipping my vodka and coke mechanically.
I yearn for my native tongue. i yearn to converse in english. ENGLISH., but with someone who IS english, not the stilted stumbling conversations in polishenglish or spanglish.
Some moments I am wildly happily and others i feel like there is something missing, like i am dying from lack of stimulation.....
I will come home in the summer..... I dream of home, I dream of arbutus trees and gary oaks, and the smell of the ocean. I dream of bc marijuana and picnics on white sand beaches. I miss you, Victoria.