4 weeks ago today i was on a plane from Boston, heading for London. i was excited. glad to be coming home to my family for Christmas, especially being as my first flight was cancelled and we weren't sure i'd even be home for new year. when i got home i was over joyed. after all, it had been 4 months since i had seen any of my relatives.
however, in my head, part of me didnt think leaving Rhode Island was a permanent thing. it just felt like another one of my journeys around America; maybe this time Florida, or Philadelphia again, but in my heart i felt i would be back. leaving wasn't real.
i spent barely 3 weeks at my home in Wales, before heading back to Reading, and until i took my first steps back in the art dept... i didnt think it was real.
and now its all hit me.
I'm back in Reading for at least a year and a half. focusing on my degree... 'knuckling down'
i'd feel more inclined to be enthusiastic...
but i can't go on a day trip to New York.
i could go on a day trip to Bristol...
but thats hardly the same, is it?
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