Reluctant Adventurer

As I sit in my dorm room, still at Northeastern, looking at my life all packed up neatly, ready to go, I still wonder whether or not I’m ready for this trip. My suitcase is full, my travel plans are arranged, but I’m only going to be at home for less than a day and a half, when I haven’t been home since the beginning of March. That hurts me more than I’d like to admit. A lot of people I know take their families for granted, but I certainly do not.

After all we’ve been through, I know how important my father and my sister, especially, are, and I almost feel like I’m abandoning them. When I talked to my sister the other day, on the phone, I told her that I’d be home on Thursday, but I’d have to leave Saturday morning, and all she had to say to me was “again?” I feel like a deadbeat sister because I’m never around, and I know she needs me, living away from our mom. I know there’s nothing I can do about it now, and that I just have to accept the things I cannot change, but leaving my family, once again, is a hard pill to swallow.

But hey, finals are over, and I’m going to be living in Egypt for the next seven and some-odd weeks. I have these mixed feelings about everything. I’m excited, but scared at the same time. I’ve spent the past few days trying to plot out a schedule that I’ll try to follow in my thirty-six hours at home, but looking at the limited time for family and friends that are practically family makes it harder to accept.