Returning Home

And just like that a month has passed. 

It seems much longer than a month. It took a long time to get used to being at home. It was hard at first. Those first couple days were so disconcerting. I was glad I was done but so in shock at being home again as well. 

It's scary having a great expanse of time ahead of you and not knowing how you're going to come out of it. 

It's scary knowing that change is going to occur and not being able to control it. That when I go back to the city things will be different. 

Maybe I will be different. 

Maybe friendships will be different. 

And that's scary. 

You wouldn't think at first that four months could change a whole lot of things. But I knew that eight months changed more than a whole lot of things.

I think I am finally in a routine and rhythm not only in my time here but in the time I invest in keeping up with people and staying in touch as well. All in all it's become easier. 

My anxiety and stress and nostalgia and loneliness and sadness has just become a lot more manageable. And I'm no longer reliant on certain things to get me up in the morning. 

I'm trying to be wherever I am, and be all there. It's proven to be a lot more difficult then you would first expect. But it's helping. 

Coming up to a countdown of days till I return to the city I can't help but wonder amidst my excitement if this will set me back again or if it will rejuvenate me. It's a fair observation, but I'm looking forward to it too much to be put off or worry about the consequences too much. 

A reunion with my best friend, retail therapy, city therapy...it's all sounding like I'd be a fool if I passed it up. And so three days from now I will have three days to recharge my battery. To stock up on memories and Starbuck's runs and city life before returning back home. 

And I'm way too excited.