These visitors came in all their beauty and happiness, and you know what? We had a fantastic time! We laughed, we cried, we played, we talked. I got to show them a smallish piece of my life. We ate out at Prashad (a famous curry house) I also got to take them to London and show them the sights like the pro-London traveler I've come to be. We saw it all! Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, House of Parliament, London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, the British Museum, Trafalgar Square, and even perused the National Gallery for a little bit!
Now, don't be tricked. I know this all seems lovely and happy, and fun...but take heed...it gets worse.
You know when you were little and you would pick off those pesky scabs before they were ready? Maybe I'm the only one who's ever done this, but I'm going to compare this visit as a scab...being picked off before it was completely ready.
My fall.. resulting in the booboo (hence the scab) was saying goodbye in Dulles Airport that August day, so many months ago. Sure it hurt, but I had distractions from the pain..new journeys awaiting, so I hopped up and eagerly went on in my adventure. My booboo healed, the pain went away, and I went on with life. But remember, I still had that scab.. I started picking it off the moment I looked towards platform 2 at Bradford Interchange and saw them walking towards me. That first hug, the countless hugs and kisses following, the hours spent together, the looks we shared across the living room, the cuddles on the couch, the late-night goodnight hugs, the hand-holding, the walking arm-in-arm, the hugs shared in H&M, the tears held back, the whispers murmured, the single tear in the museum while sitting together waiting for someone to come out of the bathroom, the giggles, the shared hotel room... all the little edge bits of my scab.. coming off little by little. I was enjoying myself immensely. But then, the big one, that one piece of the scab you KNOW you should leave alone because its definitely not ready to come off. But unfortunately, I had no choice, I picked it off. I gave one last hug each, and sent them on their way back to America, while I wandered back up the stairs to our hotel room.
And my scab bled.. not right away though. I didn't realize it was bleeding until I got back home to Bradford. I walked in the house, and it just felt...weird. You see, my scab wasn't ready to come off. I was ready to see them again, but I was NOT ready to say goodbye. I didn't have the distractions this time around.. just my day-to-day life. It felt weird that they were going home, and I was here for however many months left. And now I had those hugs, those kisses, those looks shared, the walking arm-in-arm, fresh in my memory, only to be taken away again. And it hurt. It still does. But I know my scab will heal again, and in time I will once again get to see them.
Now don't think I'm not happy that they came. Maybe it would have hurt less if they didn't come, but I am infinitely happy that they did. I had an incredible time with them. I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm simply saying that this is what I feel post-scab picking. No remorse, just thoughts.
Now...for the fun pictures! :)
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I LOVE YOU BOTH!!!
All my love.
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