I got about 85% of my stuff packed up tonight…and it’s been hitting me pretty hard. It’s not that I got to see her today, it’s just knowing that I’m leaving. Knowing that if you would have told me back in February that I’d be leaving then I wouldn’t have believed you.
Today is the twenty fourth. Every month, on every twenty fourth, something significant has happened between us, both good and bad. Today is the last day I am here. Probably the most significant thing that can happen. Twenty four is supposed to be my lucky number, my favorite number, not be the ironic day that everything happens on.
I wanted to drink tonight, just drink away this sorrow of leaving. But I couldn’t find much. I did have a bit, but not enough to do anything. I’m so excited to see all of my friends, but at the same time I’m dreading leaving. I’ve never been so consistently torn between two things for so long. I honestly can’t do one thing without worrying about the other.