lesmisloony | ONE DAY MORE GOOD GOD

I can't get anything done because I keep bursting into tears.

This is my last day in the United States until June. This is unreal. Like, this doesn't happen to people.

I'm going to miss an entire crappy snow-less North Carolina winter. I'm not going to sleep in my bed again until who-knows-when... I may not send another text message until I'm twenty-two years old.

Oh my GOD I'm going to spend my birthday in France too... it's not just Christmas and Halloween. But I miss Bastille Day, OF COURSE.

I have to stop thinking. I just have to do this. But I can't make myself start packing again. I got almost all of my clothes put away, but now I can't even decide which of two shirts which are identical in EVERYTHING BUT COLOUR to wear on the plane. I can't do anything but sit here, watch Boy Meets World, cry, and play minesweeper. My stomach is so upset.

I mean... I would never do it any differently. I know everything will be okay, I know I'm going to freaking PARIS OH MY GOD and I know if I forget anything my parents agreed to mail it. Given the chance, I would never agree to skip this opportunity for another year at UNC no matter how much I love everyone I said goodbye to last night. I feel like I'm losing myself in there, squashed in with constant drama and the same wonderful faces over and over and if I stick with it I might not have a chance to find out who I've become in these past few years before I'm thrown out into the adult world. So Paris is going to tell me what happened to the cagey loner I was in high school when she was suddenly given a huge group of friends with constant access to her room. I'm going to see how different I am from the self-important elitist who hunched over her laptop all day writing fanfiction and smirking at positive reviews, never saying a word to her roommate and never opening her door for anyone...

BUT FIRST I HAVE TO PACK.