I’m home; unfortunately, my luggage is not – yet. A direct flight – go figure…

Back to the quiet, lonely house. The kids and Mimzy will be home tomorrow morning, and I should enjoy the peace and rest, but my head is spinning and I feel electric pulses coursing through my blood. Emotions are bubbling up in some big mix and I cannot feel them individually nor can I identify them.

I was devastated to pull into the drive and realize that my landlord dug out the giant forsythia bushes that made up the side of my house. The pretty yellow flowers in the Spring were one of my favorite things about this place and reminded me of my childhood home in Indiana. I’m not good with change, especially when it is completely unexpected.

The plants inside are wilted. The house was a little stuffy and warm. The light bulb I left on burned out. Everything appears to be just as I left it, and despite the fact that I’ve just been to another world and back again, life seems to have gone on here quite well without me. I feel like everything should be different; after all, I am quite different. A big trip changes people. Maybe little trips do, too.

Re-entry is difficult for me. I feel a shocking jolt, hearing English all around me… driving my comfortable car… listening to the top 20 songs on the radio… being here – in this familiar place which seems strangely unfamiliar at the same moment… missing him – already.

My eyes are stinging from lack of sleep. My body thinks it’s 10:00 p.m.

The only thing I have in my house to eat that isn’t moldy is a few crackers and, of course, my Belgian chocolate.

I have lots of photos to sort through next, and I will post a few in awhile. I need to keep my mind occupied while my body recovers.

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