We break into the highway and I lean my back against the plush leather seats, staring out the window. I'll miss California. Somewhere at the back of my mind, it registers I'd said the same about Alaska.
Buildings wheeze past. The park comes into view and I touch my fingers to the window, like I could reach it. It soon wheezes by too.
Many afternoons were spent there with Caleb, swapping jokes and simply enjoying the nice LA weather, or working on a painting with him pestering me to reveal what it was because he couldn't sit through the countless shadings anymore. Moments like that made me forget.
Forget who I really am.
The airport is crowded with swarms of people and it's times like this I'm grateful to be a 5'9 giraffe because I quickly spot the shortest check-in line and make a beel
