Home is Where The Heart Isn't
My two weeks July stay in Kefalonia went by in a flash. We had climbed mountains, swam in clear blue warm seas, walked in the warm greek sunshine, and toured more of the beautiful island. I felt special, and it was tearing at my heart to leave. While I was there, I had been looking for work as I was seriously considering staying. On the day I conquered Atros for the first time, I had left my phone in the car. Unbelievably, I returned to three messages all concerning work on the island. My mind raced ahead and considered the possibility of staying there. However, for one reason or another, we both decided we should stick to the original plan and so I was set to return home.
The journey back to the airport was full of sadness. With every kilometre we drove, I felt more and more panic stricken. I wanted to tell him to turn around, head back to Skala and we would figure out a way for me to stay. This was the romantic streak in me, ever the optimist, the practicality of things disappear from my mind. Then reality sets in. I needed to go home and start preparing to do it the right way. If it was left to me, I wouldn't have returned, but my partner persuaded me it wasn't the right thing to do at the time. I'm so glad I listen to him sometimes!
I thought my heart would break when we eventually reached the airport and my minutes in his company and on this precious island were drawing to a close, well for now anyway. Getting through the rigamarole at the airport was a blur, as I could only think of staying. I can't put into words how hard it is to leave this place behind. Even the knowledge that you know you are returning does not console you at times.
I tried to think logically about my return to the UK, but the more I thought about it, the more lost I felt. In the end, I stopped thinking and just let the airport buzz carry me along through the process. Time came to say bye, and all I wanted to do was be cool, confident and breezy, but my emotions let me down, the tears came hard and fast, and I attracted a lot of odd looks. The worst thing was watching him leave. We kissed and when he walked away I cried some more. He was great at reassuring me I would soon be back there, but I could only concentrate on this part. It was hard.
Luckily on the plane, I had a row of seats to myself. I put my sunglasses on to cover my red swollen eyes and tried to focus on the plan ahead. I stared out of the window, and watched with fear as I watched my island grow smaller and smaller in front of my eyes as the plane took off to take me back home.
Every second in the sky meant I was getting further away from the life I wanted to live, and taking me closer back to the reality of being at home. However, it's not like I didn't have anything to come back to. I have a nice life in the UK. A caring family, close circle of friends, my own home, car and
am fairly solvent! However, my heart was now truly rooted in Kefalonia, and I think always will be.
My mum went out of her way to meet me at Birmingham airport, and after having a terrible accident last year, finds it hard to walk. But, with true mum instinct, there she was, getting a bus to the airport to meet her eldest heartbroken daughter from her flight. Just this act of kindness alone set me off in tears again as soon as I saw her when coming through the arrivals gate.
I shared my joy and love of the island with her and was already showing her the pictures taken on my trip on the way back to my house in the taxi. It brought lots of the happy memories back that me and him had shared over the past two weeks together. I had to focus on the future now, and believe in the plans we had made together.
The journey back to the airport was full of sadness. With every kilometre we drove, I felt more and more panic stricken. I wanted to tell him to turn around, head back to Skala and we would figure out a way for me to stay. This was the romantic streak in me, ever the optimist, the practicality of things disappear from my mind. Then reality sets in. I needed to go home and start preparing to do it the right way. If it was left to me, I wouldn't have returned, but my partner persuaded me it wasn't the right thing to do at the time. I'm so glad I listen to him sometimes!
I thought my heart would break when we eventually reached the airport and my minutes in his company and on this precious island were drawing to a close, well for now anyway. Getting through the rigamarole at the airport was a blur, as I could only think of staying. I can't put into words how hard it is to leave this place behind. Even the knowledge that you know you are returning does not console you at times.
I tried to think logically about my return to the UK, but the more I thought about it, the more lost I felt. In the end, I stopped thinking and just let the airport buzz carry me along through the process. Time came to say bye, and all I wanted to do was be cool, confident and breezy, but my emotions let me down, the tears came hard and fast, and I attracted a lot of odd looks. The worst thing was watching him leave. We kissed and when he walked away I cried some more. He was great at reassuring me I would soon be back there, but I could only concentrate on this part. It was hard.
Luckily on the plane, I had a row of seats to myself. I put my sunglasses on to cover my red swollen eyes and tried to focus on the plan ahead. I stared out of the window, and watched with fear as I watched my island grow smaller and smaller in front of my eyes as the plane took off to take me back home.
Every second in the sky meant I was getting further away from the life I wanted to live, and taking me closer back to the reality of being at home. However, it's not like I didn't have anything to come back to. I have a nice life in the UK. A caring family, close circle of friends, my own home, car and
am fairly solvent! However, my heart was now truly rooted in Kefalonia, and I think always will be.
My mum went out of her way to meet me at Birmingham airport, and after having a terrible accident last year, finds it hard to walk. But, with true mum instinct, there she was, getting a bus to the airport to meet her eldest heartbroken daughter from her flight. Just this act of kindness alone set me off in tears again as soon as I saw her when coming through the arrivals gate.
I shared my joy and love of the island with her and was already showing her the pictures taken on my trip on the way back to my house in the taxi. It brought lots of the happy memories back that me and him had shared over the past two weeks together. I had to focus on the future now, and believe in the plans we had made together.
 |
| Our Collage :) |
Comments
Post a Comment