I’ve only had about two and a half weeks at home.
At first, I was a little upset.
How was that supposed to be enough time to see my family and friends and get ready before I leave for an entire summer?
But now that I’ve reached the end of my time and get ready board my flight in three hours,
I’ve realized that this was actually the perfect amount of time.
It wasn’t too long, and it wasn’t too short.
It was sweet.
I’ve probably done more in two and a half weeks then I would have done here over an entire summer.
I shot and went to a wedding, saw and met Andy Grammer, reunited with all of my family for my grandma’s 70th birthday, beached it, spent a few nights out on the town, met a few new people, saw all my friends instead of putting it off and never doing it, got a tattoo, and a ton more.
Every moment became precious.
It’s not like i’m going off forever—at least not yet—but I think it’s just the whole concept of leaving what you know behind and saying goodbye, even if just for a little bit, that makes everything so valued and adored and cherished.
A shorter time means a sweeter time.
Of course, not everything gets done.
In fact, there’s a list of things I still haven’t done and a list of people I still haven’t seen—and now won’t now until August.
But what in life is ever completely done, or finished?
No amount of time will ever truly feel like enough when we’re spending it with the people we love.
But we have to go off.
We have to leap.
All I know is, I’ve had a heck of a good time.
And I can’t wait to see what this LA adventure and these last 54 days bring.
See you on the west coast ;)