"I just want to know today, know today, know today, know that maybe I will be OK"
There's this small duck family that lives out in the pond behind my house. Yeah, I totally have a mini man-made pond behind my house, and it's awesome. Anyway, there's this little duck family; the mallard and his wee wife in her less flattering brown colors. Occasionally, if it's not raining outside and the pond isn't frozen over, I'll see both of them swimming around down there having a grand old time. I'm in love with them and every time I go to the kitchen sink, I find myself peering over the window ledge to see if they're down there.
I'm going to miss seeing them during the day.
Today is the day for me to peace out back over the pond and finish out this last chapter of university, and I'm not sure why I'm finding it more difficult to leave the house this time round, but there ya go. I don't actually take off until a little after nine o'clock tonight, so I have the entire day to fluff about and take my sweet precious time. Part of me wishes my flight was super early in the morning so I could just get on the damn plane and be done with it. Why do I have to wait around for so long? It's annoying.
I remember when I first left. I think I may have blogged about it. I'm sure I did and it's somewhere in my archives. I don't need to go back and read what happened, though, because the memory is still fresh in my mind and I can easily pull it back to the front when I want to. Hell, I remember what I was wearing; my stupid green t-shirt with a picture of a lemon on it and the words that said, "squeeze me" written on it. I thought it was so funny back then. Now I think that the shirt was made funny and sits on me awkwardly and I never wear it.
On the day I took off to come to university on my lonesome, I remember not being sad of leaving Virginia. Good-bye you boring state that I need to run away from! I was stepping out into the Unknown, by myself and I wasn't even a little bit sad that I was leaving home. I think part of me might have been slightly shocked by the fact that it was all even happening. And I remember the airport being strangely quiet with the occasional announcement over the loud speaker and some man sitting next to me quietly reading his newspaper. Momma didn't cry when I left her behind at the security gate. Mel didn't cry. And my friend at the time, Amy, didn't cry either. We just kind of said good-bye like I'd be back at the weekend.
"See ya later!" I shouted, and then they were gone.
I left with my pink razr phone that I loved and would later drunkenly drop in a puddle when I went into Central with Helen and had one of the greatest nights ever. We stole an umbrella that night. She still has it at her house to this day. It's a damn fine umbrella as well. The phone has since been replaced.
I left with two gigantic suitcases, one shoulder bag with ALL of my toiletries, my book-bag AND my Coach purse that they said was too big and was considered to be a second carry-on piece the first time I left. I remember being so sad and upset that I had to shove everything from my Coach bag into my book-bag and Mel took my Coach bag back home. This time I'm leaving with one suitcase packed to the brim full of gifts for other people, a pecan pie for me to eat alone in my room and my book-bag. I don't need much else.
It's funny how things change.
Now when I go back, I'm a little bit older, I suppose a little bit wiser and yet for some reason I feel like I might cry on the second night that I'm back just like I did when I first arrived three years ago. I'll be sad this time when I walk through the security gates and won't be relieved to be leaving the state that I once thought was so boring. I'm not walking into the Unknown and I am fully aware of what's going on in the city where I took my first steps of independence.
One thing that I'm ever so grateful for, though, is that when I go back this time, I won't be completely alone and by myself. I have amazing people over there that I know and love like family. And while I might be sad now because I'm leaving home, I know I'm going to be just as equally sad, or even more sad, when I have to leave those people and London almost five months from now.
Sometimes, things just aren't fair. But I suppose that's a choice I didn't know that even I made when I was sitting alone in Dulles airport in my green t-shirt with a lemon on it.