AbsenceofTitle
Severe case of wanderlust.
The saddestsaddestsaddestsaddest thing about growing up is to see people whom you were once unbelievably close to, drift away (and if we were once close, even if I don’t say it because I’m scared its a one-way thing, I miss your company).
It is also sadsadsadsad when you live abroad and know that you will not be permanently home for a loooooooong time still (at this point in time, still five years to go). Worse still is the knowledge that, given the choice, someday in the future you may well choose to live somewhere that isn’t home.
