The air was cool and crisp at dawn as I waved goodbye to my family. This isn't my first time but I had to look away to stop tears from falling down. Leaving home doesn't get any easier, it gets harder every year. I used to travel happy, excited to live through new experiences and meet new people. Nowadays, my eyebrows form a frown which threatens to stay permanently shaped like that. Gone is the girl who looked through eyes of naivety replaced by a harden heart and weary eyes.
For the next 15 hours I float in between transits and being stuck up in the air. The plane bullets through the sky over oceans gracefully but all I want to do turn back and run home. I struggle to get rid of the image of my family enjoying breakfast at our favourite shop and already I miss all of it even though I have barely left. An inconsistent pattern of sleep forms and I feel like I'm caught in a time warp as time stops making any sense.
Welcome to London Heathrow, thank you for choosing to travel with us. The captain's voice resonates through the sound system marking my official arrival into the country. Thanks to backward timing, I have covered the majority of earth's air space and will arrive in Durham all within a day stretching my 24 hours beyond its true frame. The London air is both refreshing and intimidating, blowing past my ears as I walk through the tunnel from the underground service to King's Cross. I get a reality check as the chill tingles my skin and I am reminded that its is back to wearing scarves, tights and five layers for warmth. I think about the things I brought with me all packed up within 5 hours and suddenly I wonder if I brought any winter appropriate attire with me.
All around me people are clamouring to check the times and platforms looking onwards to reality. All intersecting each others' life at this point in time here. I sit alone with regret that didn't have the sense of mind to travel with a companion hoping that my second year will not reflect this kind of life, wandering what it would have played out to be had I chosen a path well worn by my friends.
In yet another bullet-like time capsule, I claim my seat next to the window and listen as the men in front fill the train with their football conversation. As hard as I try to stay awake, my mind drifts in and out of slumber as we pass through the night. Farther and farther north I travel and I can feel myself getting nearer to the place that will host me for another 7 months. As familiar sights come into view, I feel a tightness around my heart and it gets harder to breathe. Coming back here is like walking straight into the giant's mouth with open eyes. This place haunts me as it is here that I started to understand what loneliness feels like, what growing up feels like. It has hit me at my most vulnerable leaving me crouching down instead of standing up tall. It is here that I build my confidence up and tear it down with my own bare hands, and yet I am walking straight into another year here.
I like to think that all the things I go through is God's way of teaching me a lesson. Right now, I don't think I really want to know what point He is trying to make anymore. My tenacity and drive still in place but wearing thin by harsh weather, I don't know if I'll be strong enough to see it through the storm. I'm so tired of being push down and step on. As much as I want to, I know turning back is not an option. I'm a different person yet again, looking through a different set of lenses. I'm not as optimistic and hopeful anymore but I'll try and look for the silver lining. It get's better, I'm told.
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