It is hard for me.
Hanging out with people I love, having a great time, laughing so hard my head hurts for hours after, it is all wonderful, but then there is going home. I’m not sure why, but I always feel like I take it harder than everyone else. I come home and want to push the world away and curl up with my memories of the day.
I know I will see them again. It may be weeks or months, but I will see them again.
But the leaving tares at me.
I don’t know why.