It's the second and last day things will feel like this.

It's like, all that's ahead of you is 38 hours of being in no-man's-land, 38 hours of trying to get your mind off the world you're leaving behind, the world that you belonged to all those years ago, the world that's changed, a world that couldn't wait for you, the music just plays on, there's no pause button; but it's your world all and all.

But you're going back to the place that does wait for you, the place where all friends are and the place where you're meant to be.

But that's still 38 hours away.

And the hours don't end, the seconds just drag on, you want to get out of there, but you're caught within the worst moment forever. The Goodbyes.

And heck, what's another goodbye? Nothing you've never done before, so why does it still hurt so fucking much?

And that's what it feels like, one massive two-day-long goodbye.
And even though you're not talking about leaving, even though you're not thinking about the fact that in less than 24 hours you'll be getting on a plane, a one way ticket away from home. And who knows, maybe that means another Christmas away from the family.
It's always in the back of your mind, always there, it's like a constant pain that you choose to keep nameless, nameless for now, cause you know there will be time later, hours and hours of nothingness to give it a name, and give it the face of all those you won't see for another year.

But hell, maybe this is a last?

Screw it, chin up, just like it should be.