Thoughts an hour before leaving for the airport:
In waiting for this flight back home, I’ve been so excited. I finally get to not worry about anything, move out of that apartment, and come back home where the sun shines warm and the home cooked meals; been waiting to just not give a fuck about anything anymore.
But after cleaning that home bare, packing my cases and bags, turning in my keys and giving hugs goodbye, I’m slowly realizing how terribly alone I’m going to feel in the coming months. My friends won’t all be right there, or right next door… It’ll be a good summer, though. But I find solace knowing that this wasn’t the last time — not by far.
