I’m not totally certain if it comes across well, but this is my mostly loaded suitcase for our journey to Belfast in the morning.

Time is hard for me.  Months will feel like days and hours will take weeks to pass, it seems.  I didn’t actually notice that this was my reality until I went about half of a year without talking to my mom without even realizing that I had been without her (which wouldn’t be an issue except that it is really hard to explain to a parent that you don’t miss them, but in a nice way).  Or when I realize that I lost a dear family friend about seven years ago, even though it’s hard to remember being without him.  So this last week or so in Dublin have felt like my entire life, and right now it is hard for me to fully comprehend that I am about to leave this place, possibly forever.

Having this messed up notion of time really screws with my place connectedness.  When I am in Wyoming, Wyoming is the only place that I feel attached to, and vice versa with Georgia.  Having this non-attachment due to never actually feeling loss leads to Hogwarts feeling as real to me, sometimes, as my hometown.