There is a secret. I call it the expat secret, but I think that it applies to all people who live far away from home and their family. Here it is: it is easier not to go home. What??? Gasp!!! What did she say?!?!?! That’s right, it is so much easier not to go home. There is a reason people quit smoking cold turkey and alcoholics don’t try to have just one beer. Right now, my senses are a bit deadened to the things that I miss. I can’t remember what Whataburger tastes like really. I know I like it and it is delicious but I can no longer taste it on my tongue. It is kind of like that about everything because we have worked so hard to establish a life and a home over here that some of the ache does slip away. The edges get fuzzy, if you will. We have a minicab coming to our door in 3 hours but I can’t sleep because I have been so excited about coming home that I can’t stand it. But part of me is absolutely terrified. Because I have to leave again. Because it is going to be a wonderful three weeks with family and friends that will remind me of exactly what we have missed. Then I have to go back to the airport and get my heart ripped out again.
It’s going to be so worth it.
See you soon.