It’s official. Exactly two months until I come home. Mark your calendars.
I don’t like to think about that day, so I won’t. Because it means leaving a world that I am only now beginning to appreciate and understand. And when I return to a world that I once understood (and still greatly appreciate), it will have changed, and my place in it will have changed, too. Maybe, hopefully, we’ve changed at the same rate and we still make sense together. Co-evolution.
It’s like in school, where every year we switched rooms and the chairs got a little bigger and the desks a little higher to accommodate us. My greatest fear is that my legs will no longer fit properly under the desk.
Or, worse still, that I can no longer reach the pencil sharpener.