on what it's like to come back.

i hate unpacking. (i am still not unpacked.) i hate the whole leaving part, in general. i hate what the transition feels like, like letting go, again and again.

it always makes me anxious to know that the goodbye is just around the corner, an hour or two away. i sit with my legs bouncing up and down and my hands shake a little. it never gets easier, saying goodbye. i've done it so many times, but i am still unsure. what do i say? what do i do? how on earth will i have the strength to walk away, again? we hug, and we hug again. we hold each other and sometimes a small sob escapes. i guess we never really say anything at all, because what is there to say? or maybe it's the fear that we will completely lose ourselves to the ugly cry. (yeah, that one.) we say i love you in whispers. we squeeze tighter. and eventually we let go and look at each other with watery eyes. why are we doing this again?

traveling back is what hurts the most. it is when i feel the most unstable and frustrated and confused. i don't question the choices i've made, but i wonder what the point is and if i'm still strong enough. i cry and pray and ask, over and over again, how this is fair? how is 


 what came to be? i think about moving to charlotte. because, i could. i could move anywhere. i let my mind entertain the idea until i eventually come back around to the unfair reality that moving wouldn't be right either. i don't feel strong enough to stay in nashville, but i think i am.

usually i have six hours of this. of thinking, of praying, of out-loud talking (sometimes yelling), of debating, of deciding again. but we were in connecticut and we flew, forcing us to say goodbye in public, at the airport, and forcing me to exercise great restraint in not crying while sitting half an inch away from a total stranger. part of me didn't care and wanted to anyway, and then the other part of me is like, 

for all you know you could meet your husband right here on an airplane so you should probably not


i made it home with minimal tears, in record time–thanks to the wonder that is air travel, and chose to sit on my bed and cry (ugly cry) instead of unpack my suitcase. because sometimes you just need to get it out. it's okay to hate the coming back.

on monday morning, T sent this happy, good morning photo from her and luca, and i replied with this.

because monday mornings.

because i cut my hair while i was away, and it's still short you guys!

because this is how we see each other. through the front-facing cameras of our iphones.