34
It's not often that I don't feel like writing. Writing is my art...a blank page is like a blank canvas waiting to be decorated with descriptive, flowing words painting a picture in my mind. This is going to be a tough week and I think it might be filled with more tears than beautiful words. I've always known I'm awful at goodbyes, but this is worse than it's ever been. I tried to build a shell around my heart, protecting it from the pain I feel at change, but everything's going too fast. I've found myself playing music far too loud, putting off packing, reading the first chapter of every book I own and finding last minute excuses to not go to Austria. I'm already looking forward to coming home. I promise that I do want to go, I just didn't know that it would be this hard. Parties specific for goodbyes do not help.