spanish for home

here i am again, home at last, in the newly acquired sense of the word. meaning i'm back at the same hotel for the fourth time in three weeks, lights off tucked into my kingsized bed while my boyfriend spends some qt with his kids. i'm not sure if i like these days holed away by myself, eating burgers and shakes from whattaburger for lunch and dinner. i don't dislike being by myself. but it all seems to feel a little, i don't know, pathetic? plus, nothing is good on tv or the internet. he'll call my room to go outside and smoke a cigarette, but then one of his kids will open the door and i'll feel so out of place, so separate, that i decide next time i'll say no. but then next time i go again. and i'm bored, too. not just with texas, with the whole bit. i've done this long enough. i've read three novels in the last two weeks. i'm ready for life to begin again. ready to salvage what i can and move on with it. enough already.