I'm going to London, but first I'm going back to Florida.

Wow.  3:19 AM already.  Everyone in the Hall is in bed right now--probably asleep.  Peter is crashing on the couch, and Nikki is curled up on bench pads in the Library.  I have set up my temporary residence in the Cave Oven, and it is a peaceful place to fall asleep.  It is strange how sweet and sad the Hall can be late at night in those rare moments when I'm the only one awake and moving about in the house.  It is very quiet, and sometimes I think about how other people before me have probably shared this same feeling--this sweet, sad, quiet feeling when the house and the people in it are still.  I guess there's some sort of a bond, there, even though I am here alone; there is a bond in that shared experience of solitude.

I have to drive nine and a half hours soon.  I know I'm not going to get out of here until much later than I would prefer to leave.  I've already said all of my good byes, pretty much, so I feel like I should just go ahead and slip out of here to make it less awkward and painful.  There is a part of me that knows I'm not leaving for very long, but there's another part of me that is being reminded now of just how important my Chapel Hill family is to me.  I'm realizing that, while I may carry you all in my heart forever, there will still be times ahead when I am physically separated from you; that, while my love for you will always be there, our relationships may change, and life and distance will in some ways push us apart.

That being said, I think I've been making the best of my time here this summer.  I'm sure I will reflect on all of the fond memories some more in the future--I bet no one listens to the VENGA boys station at 3 AM in London!--but, right now, I just want to sink into how grateful I feel.  I've enjoyed living at the Hall, and I like all of the silliness I've been a part of, and I also appreciate some of the struggles this summer that challenged me and the way that I look at things.

I am so vague and sleepy right now, and I think I may fall asleep, feeling a strange mix of sad and happy and grateful and full of love.