I’ve already been to two classes this morning. I’m listening to a song, and well, for some odd reason I’m thinking of Veronica.
This really shouldn’t be happening. My life is here now. I can’t be worrying about home. I’m tempted to go back and read some of my previous Books of Days, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how much it will hurt.
I can’t go back, I can only go forward. It seems like I’ve been here for months, but I’ve only been here a week.
This has been one long week.
And it’s not even over yet.
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