It ends here.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm usually not at a loss for words. Since Sunday, I've been at a constant loss for words. I don't know if I'm just getting too old, or if I just feel stupid that all of this happened. If I were 15, I'd definitely document every thought and feeling about what's been going on. But apparently, growing up has its responsibilities, and as we know, blogs can come back to haunt you--hence the cryptic references to what's happened in the last week. I wish I could be in my 'teens again...where life was simple, and relationships didn't involve baggage, complications or true emotions. I'm probably being melodramatic, but I think I've always been like this--serious and utterly passionate about what- or whomever was in my life. But I've also been very good about running away and letting distance separate me from any pain. So despite what my friends say, I don't think I was ever really that strong. I was just always really good at having a plane ticket in my hand ready to go when the shit hit the fan, so to speak. But this time, it keeps catching up with me. I've flown 6,000 miles in the past 4 days, and yet I still feel stung by hurtful words, broken dreams, and empty memories.

The reminiscing ends here. Tomorrow I go home and life begins anew.