Word of the day:
Recherché- uncommon, exotic; rare
Today in my ASL class we were talking about housing situations, well signing is more like it but you get the idea. The first thing my teacher asked me was what kind of house did I want in the future. A vivid image popped into my head, I don't want some huge house because I know that won't happen for me but I want a small house. There was this picture I always looked at when I was younger of my mother's great aunt's they lived in Bickley in England and had this beautiful stone cottage with ivy growing up the side and the typical english garden with tons of roses and overgrown. That's what I want, and I told my teacher that. I continued to watch the students in the rest of my class talk about their large houses with pools and I realized how special this dream was to me. I really want that cottage, I want the old house with barely enough space and the large footed tub in the bathroom so I can take long bubble baths. I want the large backyard with huge roses and a bunch of other flowers and a stone pathway that leads back to a stone bench surrounded by trees and flowers. I want that to be my special place where I go back to sit down and grade papers or write to my hearts desire. I want my children, if I can have any, to grow up in a house like this around beautiful foliage and in a house that isn't like every other house in the neighborhood. Maybe it is a little weird that my dream aren't any bigger and I don't want a mansion of sorts, but my dream is so tangible and so realistic that I can almost touch it. That's what I love about my dream.
I realized last night that my friends here at college don't really know much about my past. I suppose this is a good thing because they like me as the person that they think I am, but I really do miss my friends from home who truly know everything about me. Those friends are the ones who didn't need to be told about my past but the ones who were actually there when those events that I consider my past were taking place. They're the ones I laughed with, and cried on their shoulders; they are the ones who know exactly who I am because they know where I've been. They're the ones who have accepted me with all of my faults and all of my problems and realized that regardless of all of those things I am a good person and I try hard to do the best that I can.
I keep having these dreams about McDreamy, where we start talking again and we're friends. Those are the worst dreams, I wake up and it takes a couple minutes for me to realize that it didn't really happen. It's like finding out something bad for the first time multiple times. I've been trying really hard not to think about him during the day in the hopes that he won't come up in my dreams but it seems useless because I keep dreaming about him. I suppose my subconscious misses him a lot more than my conscious mind lets on.
I have so much more to say, but I'm just not sure how to say it.
Ta for now!
<3
Becca