My ticket is bought and I am starting to feel ready, even if my backpack is far from full. (At least I’ve finally gotten it to actually fit me right!)
The past few days have left a rancid taste in my mouth and it makes me sad that I am letting this bitterness mar my memory of Houston, my memory of you.
It’s funny to think about it, but I have 20 days to wrap up the last three years of my life. And as things wind down imperfectly, I feel fairly confident in finally admitting that I think this is the end of my love affair with Houston. I don’t think I’ll be back.
But I’m worried this hurt will cause a scar that I can’t run from, and it will color my trip with distrust and harden my heart to the people and places that I want to let consume me.
That being said, I am working on re-framing. I’m not ready to call this battle over yet.