Even Though I Know.

It is one of those things, those unavoidable annoyances- almost- that rings true each time I leave and then come home. I end up walking around with a 20 lb. barbell sitting on my chest, tightening and pressuring and weighing down in the absence of home and the things and people there. And even though I say "I'm going home" when I come here, and when I go there, only one of them is really that undefinable and perfect place called home.

But I love it here. And I'm happy here. But it's without you and and them and her and him and it all ends up feeling a little gray until I get back into the routine and can put the weight back on the stand. And then it's fine. I mean, it's fine now, don't get me wrong. But there's that sense of 'how long will this last' and 'so much to do' and 'i just want to sit here and think about everything.' I think it's good that I always have a 5 hour flight to come home to- it allows things to decompress and kind of marinate before i hit the streets running. Had I been conscious for any of the flight last night I probably would have done just that.

So it is gray today, rainy on and off and I'm remembering how just 24 hours ago I was with you. And I'm avoiding homework and dreading class and excited for tomorrow- all things usual- and so my guess is the routine will come back by the end of today, and then before I know it tomorrow I'll be coming home.