The Writer XXVIII

I threw my jacket on my bed and started packing my things so I could leave in the next hour and finally make my way home.  The extra night wasn't so bad except for the five hundred dollar last minute hotel room.  I wondered if Chad and I would just end up being two travellers whose paths crossed in Manhattan and never see each other again.  I zipped up my suitcase and put it on the floor then grabbed my computer to blog while I still had WiFi.  I love writing this piece; it brings me right back into my emotional journey and I wonder if I will always feel like that when I think about it.  I have to write from memory because I never kept a journal and I think to myself that if I forgot anything then it wasn't worth noting.  I don't think I could write about my life as I live it, the intensity would be too much and my story would change...live it, reflect, journal.  I'm in a great place now and in time it will only get better and I am finding my voice and learning to use it.  I'm a writer and sometimes I say it out loud to myself just as a reminder.  I packed up my computer and placed it beside my suitcase.

Chad texted me from work and I imagine he is exhausted and I almost threw up when WestJet texted to cancel my flight.  WTF is going on at LaGuardia?  I pulled my computer back on the bed and called the airline, I have to leave today and at this point I don't care which airport I fly out of...