I'm packing my bags. I travel light. It reminds me of how little I consider significant. Half of what I take I take out of convenience and entertainment rather than necessity. Distractions for the lull. Games I consider mindless, yet time consuming. Books I allow myself to believe they are a more constructive use of my time. I know I will not return the same as I am now. The idea concerns me a touch.
How much will I change? Will I really be any different at all? Will I fritter my time away worrying over the insignificant troubles that plague me here? I don't know. I won't know till I have returned. I know this unease will pass, I know it will be okay.
I will miss her greatly. She is what I hate to leave behind.
The time will pass, but my thoughts will not stray.
I will think of her.
I will miss her.
I miss her.
And I haven't even left.