The eight hour flight back from London cannot be described with any other word than buzzing. I was determined not to be sad and spend my flight fueling my breaking heart with thoughts or sad music. Somehow I knew if I stopped for too long I would drain myself emotionally, mentally and physically, and I just wasn't ready for that. Instead I gorged myself on mindless movies, celebrity gossip and cheery music (things I normally loathe, do mind.) When I found myself watching a Will Farrell movie, I knew I had truly hit a low point in my desperation to avoid facing the truth. I was going home.
As I made my way toward U.S. Customs I broke. Feeling the early signs of a cry coming on, I headed for the handicapped bathroom where I sat on the floor of the stall and tried to collect myself.
Everything will be okay. This has been a wonderful experience. There is so much for you here in America. You are glad to be back.
It didn't really matter what I told myself, or even what I may have felt because the bitter reality that my journey is over cannot be changed. The first feeling that comes to me -- sadly -- is regret. Leaving a place and a life that I loved, yet will never be able to recapture has me feeling a tremendous sense of loss. Having felt so vibrant in London, I fear what awaits me in my little life in North Carolina. Good friends and family, is for certain, but beyond that I am not coming home to very much.
So here is where the challenge begins. I must turn myself around, grow myself more opportunities, and face new challenges. Life is not about where you are, but what you create around you.
Happiness is not an island in the rain. (Though wouldn't it be nice if it was that simple.)
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