Anxious. I mean Airport. HNL —> JFK
I’ve never had this many butterflies in my stomach before a trip. Butterflies causing me to dream funky. Butterflies robbing me of my ability to consume food.
Is it because I hate leaving the pets, my little furry family of love and perfection? Ten days is a long time but they’ll be well cared for by my animal crazy landlords.
Is it because I’m up for a promotion at work and could be coming back to a new position, a new coffee bar, a new staff of baristas who may or may not completely hate me, a much higher level of responsibility?
Is it because I’m different and I’m not sure anyone will notice? Or they’ll notice and be weirded out.
Is it because I’m afraid I’ll forget, forget how much I love it here, how much I’ve come into my own, how much I understand that it takes time and experiences to make deep friendships and I’m still in the middle, not stuck, just there in the thick of it, creating family far from home?
Is it because the community I’m returning to is gigantic, covering three states, a party is planned, the love pouring in from every portal, the invitations, friends taking me in, asking to hog my attention for just a little while?
I have been so lonely. Happy, but most often alone. Some who have known me my whole life would say I’ve always been lonely. That’s just the plight of the introspective. But to have physically placed myself 6,000 miles away from everyone…
This trip is a big deal. The butterflies are humming in preparation for the outpouring of joy I will experience in the familiar and loving world I’m going home to. They are also creating a din of background noise, churning up questions of place and purpose.
The real cliffhanger is, after these ten days, will I want to return to Hawaii?