maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me.

Well, it's been another week and a half since I wrote. Where does the time go? That's a funny statement, actually, because it feels to me that the time is dragging on and on... and yet when I look at the calendar and see that we are over halfway through March, I think, what happened to this month? Where did it go? It's very conflicted thinking, but I have been having a lot of conflicted feelings in the time I have been in Scotland, so this shouldn't be anything new.

When I talk to people now who I talked to when I first got here, they all say that are glad that I'm doing better, that I'm spreading my wings, whatever. I don't feel like I'm doing better at anything except hiding the part of me that wants to cry at any instant, the part of me that breaks down and utters those five miserable words that people on study abroad in a beautiful place should never say: "I want to go home." I have only allowed myself to say those words to one person, because he's the only one who can really make me believe that I'll be happy I stayed once this semester is over. He says he's proud of me, but I don't know why. I haven't done anything worthy of those words except leave, but the entire time I've been gone, I've only been thinking about going back home. Since the time I set foot on this campus, I've been counting down the days until I leave. It can't possibly be normal. My friend Ella was here last semester, and before I came, all she could tell me was what a great time I was going to have, and that I wouldn't want to leave at the end. That's what everyone told me before I left, so why is it not happening for me? Are the ties I have to the people I left behind stronger than everyone else's? Or am I just... different? Either way, it's not normal. I'm not normal.

Don't get me wrong, I've been doing pretty well at pretending. I go to the pubs with everyone else, I laugh, I go on trips and make memories for my adventure book. But it's all an act, and sometimes I'm not sure how convincing I am. I want to have fond memories of this place, which is why I have been taking pictures and keeping knick knacks, things that have meaning to me that I can paste on a blank page when I get home. But all I can think about is what I'm missing. When I lay down at night and I realize that I can't imagine the feel of Justin's arms around me anymore, and then I think harder and realize that I haven't been hugged, really hugged, since I left the Minneapolis airport. I want to be strong, and I try to be strong, but sometimes it just doesn't work. The hardest part is, I can't talk to anyone about this, because no one here left their other half behind. I mean, Jesse is about as close as it comes, but in all honesty, I rarely am able to get anything out before she turns the conversation on herself. I've been good at letting it go, but it hurts. My mom and my sister come in less than two weeks, and I am so ready to see familiar faces, and to cry on someone's shoulder instead of in secret in my room. This has been the hardest semester of my life. Even with the inner calm that came with Justin's plan, there is still turmoil in my life. It may seem petty, but sometimes it's overcoming. Today especially, has been like a wave. The water has been building, and it's just waiting for me to wade in too far so it can crash down on me. I mean, I know how to swim, I'll be all right. But that initial crash, when you are pulled under by the water and are no longer sure which way is up, and for a terrifying second or two, you're not sure you'll have enough air? That's the hard part. The relief doesn't come until you break the surface again, and you see that you weren't all that far away from the shore at all. Safety is in your sights. I just have to get there.