Into the Mystic

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I was always the kid who cried when summer camp ended. 

Endings and goodbyes are things I’m not particularly good at. As they become more frequent, I’ve gotten better, but still get a little quiverey, a few butterflies. 

Leaving home today to head home. Charlotte to Brisbane, old home to new home. That’s honestly how I feel, these two enormous pieces of my lives located thousands of miles apart; so very hard to reconcile. 

I know I am fortunate beyond measure to have these experiences, to go on these adventures, make these moves. It doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier, though. For those of you fearless travelers that can say your goodbyes without any tears or suspicious blinking, my hat is off to you. I am the blubbering mess you breeze by at the airport. 

And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home,

And when the fog horn blows I want to hear it

I don’t have to fear it

Farewell (again) for now, ya’ll. I’m so thankful I got the chance to see so many of you while home- for those that I didn’t, I certainly wish I could’ve and we’ll just have to catch up next time around. 

And I want to rock your gyspy soul

Just like in the days of old

And magnificently we will flow into the mystic

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