For the last 3 weeks or so (since coming back home from my second home) I've felt as though I'm living in some alternative reality..kind of like Sliding Doors. Yeah, I know, I love that movie so sue me already.
Anyway, the alternative me that didn't get the tragic news on August 2nd would be on a boeing 747 powered by the almighty Virgin Atlantic Airways on her way back home after almost a month. A part of me wishes I was that girl...that my only tears would be over leaving Pete...that my mom would be at the airport to meet me as I walked over to baggage claim like all the other times before. And with that last sentence a single tear drop streams down my cheek.
But it wasn't meant to be I guess. We had a good week, carefree week together in England. But I guess I was meant to be jolted back into my current reality. It has its advantages...I'm mostly over my double jet lag, I've been able to unpack just in time to re-pack for school. I've gotten to spend time with my bestest friends...especially my faithful Lopez crew including Sara, who is about to leave us for great adventures in Edinburgh.
So, I no longer think of the last 3 weeks as carefree time taken away from me. But rather, extra time given for my last summer ever at home...if things go as planned at the moment. And I guess that's the last gift my mom could give me...but I still wish she didn't have to. But that's life...and death.