Going home-home

When things begin to click and un-click is when it's hard to write, to document a place that suddenly I'm capable of living in seems as if I'll jinx it and go back to feeling lost. And when I'm here and not here is when I start to lose my way around the days and the balance of my thoughts. I'm going back to the States for 10 days, leaving this Wednesday--tomorrow. Meaning this weekend I will be spending in South Dakota, not in some Dakar night club drinking skunky Senegalese beer, but actually going home-home (because just one home is in Sacre Coeur 3). These last weeks feeling pulled between two worlds my home-home and my life here, which when put side by side seem completely foreign, and that's what I mean by spinning, just not knowing where I'm at from one moment to the next: One night last week I had such a vivid dream of having a conversation with my brother on the couch of my aunt's house. I remember the feeling between us and the way we were laughing and I remember smelling the food and hearing the sounds of a dinner being prepared. I woke up wondering if it'd really happened, but it's only because I've been thinking so much about it and there it was, in my dream. So I'm trying to brace myself for the extremes, which I can only hope that I have the strength and the will, but I have to because it's not for me, it's for my family, and that alone gives me peace.