I’m certain this is the first time that I ever felt like I absolutely didn’t want to leave a place just yet. All other times, whether it was leaving BC to go back home for the holidays or leaving home to go off and make it out on my own in Jordan, I always felt like I was ready to go. This time, that that feeling is not there.
I want to stay. Even if it’s only for a day or two more, I want to stay. It’s a heavy weight on my chest. I want to be with the people I love a little bit longer. I want to do life with them a little bit longer. I don’t want to miss the successes or failures, laughs or tears. I want to be there for every one of those moments, because I feel like I’ve missed so much already.
Sure, I’m growing and they’re all growing, but I want to be a part of their growth and I want them to be a part of mine.
I want to be able to do errands for my mom who lives by herself, because her only son thought it was necessary that he go off to a foreign country to do God knows what.
I want to walk my dog a bit more often instead of having to ask my friends (who more than generously do it) to do it for me.
I want to visit my grandma in LA more often.
I want more time home.
And here I am, at the airport again. Leaving. The prospects of what waits for me in Jordan not all too enticing.
This is the first time I feel regret as I’m moving forward in my life.