This is it.

I’m all packed up. 

I’ve said my no touch goodbyes. 

Not quite sure if I’m ready to go but there is no alternate option. 

Today is the day.

The next three days will feel longer than the last five weeks combined.

In just under two hours, I’ll begin my journey back home.  Into the arms of those I care about. Into the life I am used to living.  The life I know. The comfort of everyday. Still, that always seems like the most unfamiliar place to go back to after a mission.  

I’ve been preparing myself, physically, mentally and emotionally, for this day. For the next three weeks.  And partially, for the next few months.  

It’s a process. 

I have smiled at the thought of leaving.  

I have cried at thought of leaving.

This is not something you can normally share freely.  Not without risking the feelings of others.  Those who love you. Those who wait weeks, months, years to see you. Those who have practically planned out everything they want to say and do when you return.  If they had any idea how much you fear those moments. Those reunions.  They would question their own value in your life.  It’s not worth sharing. 

Those who don’t know, will never understand. 

In three days, I will feel suffocated by the life I live.

This is it.