You Could Be Happy

I've been home for 12 hours now- listening to the same 11 songs on speakers I've set up in the bathroom, eating 1% cottage cheese out of the container BECAUSE I CAN, and lying on the floor sobbing my eyes out. I made Winter White Earl Grey tea with soy milk, got a phone call from Texas, and am trying to get used to being back home.

I can't cry now because I've put makeup on, even though I barely wore makeup all summer. My hair never got flatironed and very rarely blowdried, and I didn't even wear sunscreen all summer (gasp!).

My house is filled with packed or half-packed boxes, and all the art is off the walls. Mum is making reservations to ship our cats in a plane, and I am going to start mapping my driving route from Orangeville, Ontario to Calgary, Alberta.

Saying goodbye in a parking lot is always slightly romantic, but all I could say to him was "this isn't goodbye, this isn't goodbye". The lights were bright at this particular gas station, and of course I couldn't cry- I saved my tears for when I got to be alone. I haven't been alone in the last 9 weeks- how am I going to handle it now?

My bed seemed too big when I crawled into it last night, and all my dreams were of my camp people, crazy dreams that didn't allow me to remember where I would be waking up:

Home.