Sunday, 02/25/07 - 10:44 pm.
So, this is it. Today was my last day in Houston, and it's definitely the end of an era. I spent the day running errands with my brother, his wife and his kids, and by dinnertime, everybody was tired and, therefore, a little moody. But it's all good.
My bags are packed. I was taking only one, but it exceeded the weight permited by the airline, so I borrowed another bag. I have no idea how in the world I got that much stuff, I was supposed to keep my spending at the minimun. But then I'd think "I don't buy this at home", "you don't find that over there", "hey, it's cheaper".
I would've gotten home with nothing but a bunch of coins, but my brother gave me $80, and also bought me a pair of shoes. I'm embarrassed, because it's their money...I did try to reject those offers, but too much trying to reject would come off as rude. And let's not count he paid for the change of the flight, and many other things during my stay, the lodging and feeding. If I'm taking $40 of my own money, it's because the last days they insisted in paying for me. My sister in law says it's fine, because I've done a lot for them. But still!
It's so hard to go back home. I want to, but...you know, this is my family, too. And the kids, I don't want to leave them. I suppose all that's left is write them a little letter. It breaks my heart, because they get so, so sad and teary. I kissed my nephew good night, and I wished I wasn't seeing him in the morning, because otherwise it's going to be so much harder. Then he got up and gave me a bottle of chocolate milk, saying that was a gift.
Oh, hey, my niece turned 13 yesterday. I made her a ring, and she had breakfast in bed. All of us ate watching That 70's Show. I thought things would get ugly at night, because she was going to the movies with some friend, and later her parents found out the schedule she'd given wasn't accurate. My brother and SIL went early to pick her up, to check if everything was ok (she's done it before, saying she'll do something and then doing something else). I don't know what really happened, but when they came home, she was really sweet and happy. I assumed all went well, and so I didn't care for the rest of the story.
I am thinking there's not much else to say, other than I feel torn and ripped apart. My plane takes off at 9:25 am, I don't even want to think about how much I hate flying. I guess what I hate more than that is leaving the four of them. I'm even to the point of saying "I can't believe this is happening". I can't believe I won't be here by tomorrow at noon; no more gym, no more picking up the kids and hanging out with them, or making dinner. It's horrible. I don't want to sound dramatic, but it's a little like dying...life goes on without you, you won't be part of this life anymore.
It's like I once closed my eyes, to find myself waking up surrounded by different people, but still in a place I called home. And after some time, there was a voice that came from somewhere above me, and it started counting backwards from 10. "When I reach to 1, you'll wake up, and all this won't be nothing but a pleasant dream that you'll never have again". I'm close to waking up, and I don't want to.
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