I don't want to choose black or blue.

Well, I must say that being home is not terrible.

But its definitely not great either.

On Sunday, I sent my dad a letter with details on my faith.

His response: "I expected it, don't let anyone take advantage of you being so lovable and sweet. Be careful, smart and strong. I love you."

Which was really nice and great but I know my dad and I know that's not all he has to say.

Regardless, I was still calm.

Anyways, being home has been okay.

He's itching to talk to me about it.

I told him how I'm anxious about next quarter and all the challenges it holds.

He said, 

"Don't be. In psychology, they say that everyone creates these homes of worries and doubts for themselves. It's those who are unstable who actually live in these homes instead of objectively look at them."

"...So, you're calling me crazy because I'm anxious?"

"Yeah, I think you're a little crazy. But I also think you're really vulnerable and I hope one day you just grow out of it."

Clearly, this wasn't about anxiety.

I said, "Huh, well... what if I don't want to grow out of it?"

"Well, then I feel sorry for you."

Great...

An hour later, I hear him talk to my mom about it. I overhear him say things about people living with imaginary mindsets. Her telling him that they need to talk to me about it, it's important.

I'm not sure what that conversation will hold.

I thought I was ready for this and I think I am but it's just so hard to explain.

My parents think that my belief in God is sad and pitiful. 

They think I should see through this as though it's a scam.

That it's not real.

And for me to believe translates to me being naive and childish.

I might as well be saying, "Mom! Dad! I believe in Santa Claus."

It's hard.

I don't know how to deal with this really.

I'm just getting through it.

I feel like everybody has this wall up against me.

And is constantly judging every word that comes out of my mouth.

I know that this is all out of their love for me and for that reason, I can't really get angry or upset. The only way I can explain how I feel is to say that my heart is incredibly weighted and heavy. I will just continue to pray and pray and pray. There is really nothing else. 

I feel as though I'm constantly being tested in this house.

I'm just taking these lamaze breaths and praying for patience.

It could be anything from how loudly my mother talks on the phone to the way Mandana treats my parents, as though she is the Queen of Sheba.

I need my God.

I need my friends.

I need space.

It's these days that make me look forward and anticipate my own family that I'll create.