I thought I'd feel better when the plane's landed. I thought that it would feel fantabulous to be back. It does, really. I've missed my family and my friends and I can't wait to finally hook up with them. I'm happy, yes. But there's a huge void in my heart. And it's that kind of void brought about not by just one person... or a place that might, God forbid, dissolve in distant memory.
In relevance, one year may have been just a hellish blur. In reality, it's been a culture, a home, a clique, an experience that I have learned to love.
There's nothing I want more than to go back.