(first oppresses and then soothes as fancy takes it)
Exactly two weeks 'till I leave. And I can finally say that I'm somewhat starting to look forward to it. I have mentally started to leave this place (although with pain). It's hard to leave but I have to. Have no idea when I'll be back next time. Have friends and family that I'm not going to see now for an indefinite time.
When I drive back and forth from work, I mentally photograph all the nice angles and views on the way. I hope to save these snapshots in some good spot in my memory. And I make myself to the idea that I'm most likely never going to live in my house again. (That is, not unless we f*** up big time!) I have lots of nice possessions, equipment, goods, accessories that have served me well; I am now taking them to the Red Cross, where they will continue to serve someone.
During this process, I feel continuously a little nauseated. I think it’s fear. But it will provide a huge relief to be done with all this. And I believe that things will really start getting better then. Anyway, it’s a huge step forward to have a flight ticket in hand and to know that my guy is just waiting for me to arrive. I think time will cure everything …
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