as good as it is to get away, it's always good to be home. there was a point in my vacation where i was wanting to stay forever and thought i'd cry when we left, but by the time we were at the airport all packed and ready to go, i was more than ready to go home. ch said "dont you wish that the plane would delay and we could stay another week?" i said no. i mean, really...i had already jammed everything into the suitcases and sat on them and lugged them to the airport and had been sitting there three hours ahead of my flight dreading the 6+hrs home, so no...i really didnt want to postpone all that bs. i think you just get into a mindframe where you know that you're going home, so your thoughts are on home.
we flew into the hat on monday. i watched out the window of our tiny plane and spotted redcliff, then the leisure centre and the coop, and knew we were flying over our house. call me crazy, but i looked down and started crying. it WAS good to be home. i actually sobbed when i saw the hat. most likely out of gratitude or emotion of ending something, but looking down at the city (despite its ugly grey and brown hues) made me so happy to be here.
call me crazy...it's ok.
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