November

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The air is colder now and I think back to November last year. It rained and rained and I wouldn’t leave my room. I couldn’t explain why. Then I screamed in your arms and through tears I begged you not to hate me, while you held me so tight I thought you’d break my bones.

I think back to getting up in the middle of the night to catch an early flight, and how I almost didn’t leave because I couldn’t fit my stuff into a plastic bag. I was sure I would die. But I didn’t.

I think back to cheap hostel breakfasts and days spent walking. The air wasn’t as cold. The rain, it had a different taste far away from home.

For those three short days in November, I was me again.

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