It’s next week. Next week I’m packing my suitcase and I’m saying goodbye to my family. I’m not looking at this as permanent, but it’s still starting to hurt. Nols visit earlier really helped bring this on…sitting in the kitchen with tea, her face just crumpled, and I couldn’t deal with it. Man, but I needed to gulp down hard to keep it together. I can almost deal with everything else, but Nols…
So I sit here now, torturing myself with the saddest music, letting the tears run and indulging myself in every bitter-sweet emotion, more bitter than sweet right now.
I’m so eager to get on that airplane and have some new experiences and see my friends, but it’s so difficult to pack up my life here. It’s not been much, but it was mine and it was comfortable and easy. I’m not that brave!!
Why would I listen to Damien Rice at a time like this? Why is it so easy to forget the bad and remember the good when looking back? There was so much good…but it just was not right from the start…why did I choose to ignore that? So I go away now, but it's just me and Nola that cries.
“She broke down the other day, yeah you know
Some things in life may change
And some things they stay the same
Like time, there's always time
On my mind
So pass me by, I'll be fine
Just give me time”