My flight is only days away, and it feels like I’ve eaten a three-course meal consisting entirely of rocks. I’ve never been so reluctant to get on a plane in my entire life.
Leaving Chicago now, after the friends I’ve made, the people I’ve met, after Connor? Suddenly, this trip feels insane. Like something someone does when they don’t have anyone or anything. I’m different now. I’m not who I was when I signed up to go. I have people, people who want me here, people who need me.
And goddammit, I need them too.
I’ve already thought through every possible escape route to get out of this trip, but there’s no way. I signed all kinds of waivers and contracts when I signed up. Hell, there was a rigorous application process to get in. This isn’t one of those eat, pray, love things. I agreed to
