a little homesick.

I'm not going to lie. I did this to myself.

I have this playlist called "chronology" on my computer, and it's basically all of my songs that I've acquired since freshman year, in order. Patrick used to do this automatically, but then when he crashed last winter, the data was mixed up, so now I have to do it manually, which isn't hard, but is sort of a pain because I forget.

Anyway, I realized I hadn't updated it in like, months. So I put my songs in order of "date added" and dragged the newish ones into the playlist. Easy.

And then I started listening to the playlist.

The playlist came to the song "Avada Kedavra" which, you may or may not know, facilitated a nervous breakdown of mine back in May, which I sort of blogged about (in a mentally unstable way). So I had to go read over my blog posts from May to remember the context of these things.

And then I was just reading over May.

Despite my nervous breakdown(s), that was a great month. I mean, I was falling apart and my life was unraveling, but... I had Potomac. I hated it at times, and I wanted it to all disappear at times, but honestly I so preferred being at school to being at home. I wouldn't go home; I'd coffee. I would leave the house at every opportunity. It was a mess over there.

It's occurred to me that over here, I have nowhere to go. I have no one to text while I'm walking around in the rain. I have nowhere to walk to. I could take the tram somewhere... but where? I could go to Thun... what's in Thun? Some mountains or something? Whatever! I don't care!

Everything is just a little more hostile here.

I miss you guys like mad these days, you crazy america kids.

And I'm not going to school this week, because everyone else is taking trial exams (good luck, by the way, IB kids), which gives me time to think about it.

Going to school here is not the same, though. I always knew what was up at Potomac. I knew who was who and what everyone was like and who I could count on, and there were (and are) a lot of you.

Also, I miss my car. Zola, wherever you are, you might have been my best friend last year. You were always there when I needed you. You are the single best listener I have ever met. And yes, I know you think I'm crazy. You're probably right.

Love always,
Clara