Going home, man what a trip! I wish that I could say that this was the first time I felt like this. This is my second number and I don’t ever want to put my family through this again. It’s not only them though it’s me. I don’t think that I’d survive another ride.
As of now though I’m ninety five days and a wake away from the door. Ninety five days away from a new beginning and a new life and more I can’t wait to see my mom to see her face, feel her hugs squeeze me her kisses on my cheeks to hear her thank God for her baby boy will surely make me weak in the knees. I think I’ve missed mom the most. I’ve asked God everyday to keep her safe and to hold her close. I can’t wait to eat real food, take a bath put on a pair of jeans and the watch that was once my dad’s. I can’t wait to sleep in a real bed I doubt that I’ll sleep the night before I leave or when I’m rolling up on out if I forget to breathe.
I don’t have a ride home as of yet so I’ll get a on a Greyhound heading west and I’ll have a little time to try to clear my head.
Am I scared? Hell yes. I don’t let it show and I really don’t know what to expect. But, this time I’ll definitely do my best to build a good life for myself, chase down my dreams and lay the past to rest.
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