It's 6:03pm. I've got another 61 minutes to kill before eating. I finished all my lesson planning at school, I've cleaned my place, I've done some yoga, I've prepared my plate (it's sitting in the microwave), and now I've got nothing to do with myself.

So I moved out last month. After dealing with my mother's nasty, dirty looks (seriously, if looks could kill...) and her passive aggressivness I decided to pick up and leave. I did a lot to try to break the ice before I moved on but the woman wouldn't budge. She wants to stay angry. She doesn't know how else to act. And it became increasingly frustrating to deal with a woman who didn't know how to be an adult.

One afternoon I went to a mosque downtown to attend Friday prayers. It was a Sufi mosque led by an imam who I would constantly "run into" when doing some research online. Somehow all roads led to him and I wanted very much to go to his mosque. Unfortunately, he was in Malaysia on business that day but his mentee led a beautiful prayer. It was a mixed-sex mosque and I have never felt as comfortable around other Muslims in prayer. The men didn't bother the women, didn't pretend like we didn't exist. It was a beautiful moment and even though I feel awkward praying in general, that day I felt connected to something.

I went home that afternoon and found my mother sitting on the porch. I dragged her in the house and told her how much I loved her. I told her I had just come from the mosque and was filled with love for her. I want to fix our relationship, I said, a relationship that has been broken for decades. I told her I'd stop seeing R till we fixed "us", that for me the most important thing right now was us. She was a little resistant at first but then seemed to melt. She said that she wanted that too...to fix us. We stopped talking because guests came in, but I was hopeful, positive, and optimistic. I thought that it was going to be the beginning of a new relationship.

The next day, she ignored me.

The day after that, she ignored me some more. It was as if I hadn't even said anything. I waited for two weeks before finally asking her how long she was going to keep the silent treatment up and she said, "till I know what you're going to do with R".

I exploded. What the fuck was the point of approaching her and asking to fix our relationship? I wanted us to talk about how we could overcome our negative past, but she still just wanted me to "come to my senses" and leave R.

I walked out on her when she said that and immediately starting looking for a place.

I am now the proud resident of Basil's former place. And I'm loving it. I love my neighborhood. I LOVE LOVE LOVE my apartment. It's beautiful. It's cozy. It's intimate. I come home and I feel at peace.

I've felt much better since I've moved out. I haven't spoken to my mother much and I know that's wrong. I shouldn't give up, but the summer killed me. I need some time away from her. It hurts me when I think that we're never going to have a decent relationship again (if ever we had one) but I don't want to worry about that anymore.

6:28. Time moves awfully slow when you're waiting............