last week on the island

I just realised that the next time I'm back for more than a month, may not be as soon as I'd like. And I'm counting in years here. This makes me sad. I hate goodbyes. I think maybe I'm getting soft. So much for never cracking under pressure and never crying at sad movies. Ah, age has caused the follies of youth to disappear. (Ok, I know, exaggeration here)

But it just sucks that I want to be in 2 places as badly as I do. I wouldn't have chosen otherwise though, so I guess, there's nothing to regret, just lots to miss.

Didn't spend enough time with the people who really matter.

I guess this is it, I'll see you when I do see you. And for those I don't see, you know that I'm going to be right here, trying to be good, or at least the best I know how.