I'm at the airport.
I made it through check-in, although I dont know if my carry-on will fit on the plain.
I'm still a little bit nervous, but more confident than I was yesterday.
When I signed up for this trip, I only thought of my upcoming adventure with excitement.
I didn’t realize that as the time go nearer, I’d have moments sick to my stomach with apprehension and the thought of leaving my loved ones for a month (I don’t know how soldiers or PeaceCorp volunteers do it).
Sometimes, I am so overwhelmed with love that it is difficult for me to control my emotions. (I blame this on my mom. She always used to cry during sad, or just kind of sad, movies and me and my sisters would laugh. Now I think I’m worse than she is. I just cried during “Waiting for Superman” last week, albeit that was a documentary.) I received calls from my mom, Jim, and Sandi. My uncle bought me a book on Kili and altitude sickness. Jerecia gave me a hug. Marie stopped over the house before schools to tell me she’ll miss me, giving me a teary eyed hug. I received well wishes from so many others. Steve hasn’t been himself all week. As he dropped me off at the airport, I can’t say I didn’t let a tear slip out.
But, I walked through the doors.
This is the most alone I have ever been in my whole life-but I am loved; so, I guess alone is relative. (Yes, I know Im a bit of a baby- there’s college students here- but I am who I am!)