If you're reading this it means I resisted all urges to take my return trip to England with Pete, even after the airport attendant tempting me with "are you sure?" and "this is your last chance...". I knew I had to stay, but I wished I could go just get away from reality again for a little while. But there are papers to go through, bags to pack, and a new room to be moved into soon. All without her. These past two weeks have been by far the hardest of my life, and yet I feel strangely independent and scared of that. I guess I'll survive because the alternative can't be better, can it? Probably not. I should probably write this in the journal Kamie sent me, instead of on here, but in a way I don't want to be alone with my thoughts...Does that make any sense?