No way am I actually leaving tomorrow, nope. Nope. NOOOOOPE.
I don’t even know how to describe how this makes me feel. I keep wanting to say awful, but that’s not quite it; I think that’s what’s coming. I still feel at home, still feel normal here. My room is still mine — I haven’t taken down my decorations yet. But I have a creeping sense of unease that pervades everything I’ve done the last two days, everything I know I need to do today. I walk slower. I can’t stop thinking “is this my last walk through the meadow? How many more times will I hear the bell towers?”
It just feels wrong.